


Dr. Gaster Learns a Thing

by mathmusic8



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gaster is also a Sneaky little Sneak Sneaker, Gen, Grillby is a Sneaky little Sneak Sneaker, Magic Medical Conditions, Mild Angst, Mild Flashback, Mostly Fluff, Papyrus KNOWS when something's up, Papyrus knows how to have Fun Safely, Pre-Game setting, Sans Gives Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathmusic8/pseuds/mathmusic8
Summary: Dr. Gaster invites Sans to teach him blue magic, and he learns a bit more than he signed up for.Just a little idea I've been playing with for a while. Tiny bit of angst but mostly just fluff.Brackets indicate weird fonts.
Relationships: Grillby/OC, W. D. Gaster/OC
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. A Lesson

Sans worked with Dr. Gaster, sure. They were probably related—they were skeletons, after all—but nothing close enough to matter. They actually didn’t even work in the same area of the Royal Science Department, but since Dr. Gaster was the boss, there was bound to be times that Sans, the physicist of the team, would work with him on some project or other. So yeah. He knew him, but not _well_.

It was only natural that, as the auras of each human soul permeated through the Underground, Sans chose to hone his skills in blue gravitational magic—physics was his jam, after all. He enjoyed teaching his younger brother as well, who in turn learned and then taught Sans how to imbue his bones in cyan. Trust Papyrus to come up with an idea like that—using both blues together was only natural, the boy insisted, and it really was. Sans really did have the coolest brother in the entire Underground.

Dr. Gaster heard snippets of this incredible phenomenon from his other assistants. At the time, using two colors at once was quite a novelty, even as the idea of using human magic had settled some, and every other case, green magic was the secondary color. Most monsters could perform informal green magic to some degree, so forming green bullets was a natural second step.

Most of the soul colors had distinct magic that was easily distributed between different groups of monsters: cyan magic that demanded one to stay still went to several furry folk in Snowdin; green magic could heal, and many of the reclusive, timid monsters of Waterfall picked up that ability; orange magic required bold action, and that fit in well with Hotland; the spiders already loved their webs, so purple entrapment fit them well. The gravitational blue, however, remained with the young skeletons brothers Sans and Papyrus, and only them. This was why, after stewing over it for several months, Dr. Gaster finally called Sans into his workroom.

Sans was a small skeleton—the very top of his skull was perhaps an inch shy of Dr. Gaster’s shoulder—but it wasn’t until Sans was standing directly in front of him that Dr. Gaster fully realized this for the first time. Was that one reason why he was so good at a magic type that no one else was? Because he was so small?

[“ **How tall is your brother?** ”] Dr. Gaster blurted. The translation device clipped to his white lab coat registered his garbled accent and rendered it back in perfect Common.

Sans blinked his large orbits in surprise. “uh, maybe a couple inches shorter than you? he’s not quite done growin’ yet, tho.”

Dr. Gaster inwardly groaned at the speech bubble over Sans’ head. For any other monster, their manner of speech would be simply how they spoke and there wasn’t much to be done about it. For a skeleton monster, however, who _knew better_ —Dr. Gaster smiled tightly. _This is fine._

“i know my brother’s really cool and all,” Sans said, his frozen smile remaining as he cocked his head curiously as he scratched his cheekbone, “but was there anythin’ else you needed me for?”

Dr. Gaster had to stop himself from asking the poor boy to speak up—Sans was a lowercaser, This was something he really couldn’t help. The poor punctuation and disregard for propriety, however, would not be so easily forgiven, though it was put on the back burner for now. [“ **Yes. I’d like you to teach me to use gravitational magic,** ”] Dr. Gaster stated, rolling his coat sleeves up to his elbows.

“what, right now?” Although Sans’ face hardly changed beyond his orbits opening wider, his hand dropped back to his side and he sounded surprised.

Dr. Gaster nodded curtly. [“ **Yes. I’ve set aside one hour for this. Begin.** ”] His translator dutifully waited for him to finish, then repeated his words back, clean and crisp. It even took off his natural uppercasing, and Dr. Gaster wondered briefly if he could invent such a device to increase Sans’ decibel to something more respectable.

“uh, okay.” Sans shrugged and dropped his clipboard to the floor with a _clack_ that echoed sharply through the large work room.

Dr. Gaster flinched sharply at the sound and glared at the little skeleton, who simply slid one eye closed in a wink and pushed back his white lab coat to shove his hands into his hoodie. “lesson number one: you gotta loosen up, doc,” Sans drawled.

[“ **On the contrary,** ”] Dr. Gaster growled, [“ **There have been many studies that show that a higher level of concentration greatly adds to—** ”]

Sans interrupted ages before the translator even processed Dr. Gaster’s statement. “yeah, but if you could learn this from a study, i wouldn’t be here, right?”

The translator device did not handle half sentences very well, and Dr. Gaster knew he would probably cause it to crash if he spoke too soon, but he couldn’t help himself. [“YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”]

Sure enough, the device emitted a loud beep to indicate a reset, but Dr. Gaster simply shut it off as Sans said, “i’m a skeleton, aren’t i?”

Dr. Gaster was flabbergasted. [“JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN SEE MY FONT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN—”]

“heh, geez doc, i was just jokin’. i studied up on your font when i first got the job,” Sans laughed. "kinda got my whole family involved to help quiz me, too."

[“STOP INTERRUPTING ME! IT’S QUITE RUDE!”] Dr. Gaster said with a stomp of his foot. He was so unused to being interrupted—both due to his rank and his translator—and he couldn’t stand it.

That frozen smile never changed, but something in Sans’ eyes softened. “sorry, sir, you’re just a lot like my little bro, you know? getting worked up about the little things, shoutin’ all the time.” Sans shook his head. “anyway. sorry. you wanna know blue magic, huh?”

Sans extended a single finger, and the clipboard on the floor rose up and hovered in midair in front of the two monsters. It gave off an indigo glow, and Dr. Gaster was fascinated by it, drinking in its movement. It was less like a hand picking it up by one edge and more like the entire board rose together. As it did, the papers floated up an invisible wind, or perhaps as if its gravity was entirely repolarized towards the ceiling, which the clipboard continued to approach.

[“THIS DOESN’T LOOK SO HARD,”] Dr. Gaster decided. He turned to Sans, who was still guiding the clipboard with his finger. [“MAY I TRY?”]

“sure,” Sans shrugged. He gently lowered the clipboard to the floor and stuck his hand back in his pocket. “knock yourself out.”

Dr. Gaster did have an advantage over most monsters in that he had personally handled each of the human souls and therefore had a much better sense of direction to push his magic to imitate their auras. This combined with Sans’ demonstration made it a simple matter for him hold his hand out and turn the clipboard blue, but then he was stuck.

[“WHY ISN’T IT MOVING?”] he huffed, mostly to himself, but Sans hummed in acknowledgement.

“cuz it’s already on the floor,” Sans said with a sarcastic lilt in his voice. “which is great, by the way. that’s the most efficient way to use blue.”

[“BUT IT’S NOT DOING ANYTHING!”] Dr. Gaster repeated.

“you’re increasing the gravitational pull,” Sans corrected. He stepped forward and nudged the clipboard with the toe of his sneaker, but it didn’t budge. “i’d say you just about quadrupled it. that’s why we’re starting with objects—you try to do this with a person and you’d drop them face-first onto the floor.” Looking off to the side, Sans scuffed the floor with his shoe. “and this floor is pretty hard. so we’ll avoid that for a bit, k?”

[“ALRIGHT, YES, BUT HOW DO I MAKE IT MOVE?”] Dr. Gaster asked, stomping his foot again.

Sans again closed one eye in a wink and resumed his position back behind Dr. Gaster. “it’ll take more energy than you think. imagine the effort it would take to drink out of a waterfall and then spit it back out against the current. it’s like that.”

Dr. Gaster slowly turned to face Sans. [“EXCUSE ME. _WHAT_?”]

Sans lifted his hands in a shrug. “that’s how my bro described it. he doesn’t like using directional blue as much as i do, and i can’t do it for very long before i get tired. so it makes sense to me.”

[“WHAT’S THE PURPOSE OF USING BLUE MAGIC AT ALL IF IT’S TOO DRAINING TO CHANGE SOMETHING’S DIRECTION?”] Dr. Gaster demanded, still staring at the clipboard in frustration. The papers were covered in bubbly letters of Sans’ own font plus a few doodles in the margins.

“that’s what everyone says,” Sans sighed. “i dunno, maybe it’s the way i use my bullets? extra gravity means I only have to work one plane at a time, y’know? and it’s my favorite plane—the floor.”

Dr. Gaster released his hold on the clipboard and faced the small skeleton. [“SHOW ME,”] he said.

“show you what?” Sans asked.

[“SHOW ME HOW BLUE MAGIC IS USEFUL,”] Dr. Gaster said with a roll of his eyes. [“‘SHOW YOU WHAT,’ INDEED.”]

“you giving me permission to use magic on your soul?” Sans asked.

[“FOR GOODNESS SAKE, YES! NOW GET ON WITH IT!”] Time was a precious commodity to Dr. Gaster, and he was tired of Sans’ slow words, slow movements, and the lack of gratification from these exercises.

“alright, here we go,” Sans said. He raised a hand and Dr. Gaster nearly dropped to his knees at the sudden extra weight dragging on his soul.

Caught off guard, it took Dr. Gaster a moment to fully process what had happened, his new physical limitations, and how it might be used against him in a fight. He saw a small white bone approaching and flinched for the impact—he would rather take a bit of damage at the moment than interrupt his fierce calculations—but the bone only crawled forward at a snail’s pace. Gaster made to step over it, once he was ready, but quickly realized that his feet were practically glued to the floor. He had to actually physically jump just to avoid a three inch bone.

[“I SEE,”] Dr. Gaster said, and a wide grin spread across his face. [“I SEE NOW!”]

“welp, that was fast,” Sans chuckled. He broke his hold over the blue magic and slid his hand in his pocket. “you got any questions for me, doc—woah, hey, wait!!”

Upon being freed from Sans’ magic, Dr. Gaster reached out and wrapped Sans’ soul in blue the same way as the clipboard. Instantly, Sans’s entire frame hit the floor with a resounding _crack_ , face down, just like he’d warned earlier, Dr. Gaster belatedly realized.

[“OH—OH DEAR, I-I AM SORRY,”] Dr. Gaster said, stepping forward.

Sans gasped as his ribcage visibly lurched into the floor a second time. “doc—let—go!!” Sans choked out.

Dr. Gaster dropped the magic as soon as he understood what the boy was trying to say. He dropped to his knees and helped Sans sit up. [“I’M TERRIBLY SORRY, SANS, THAT MUST HAVE HURT.”]

Holding a hand over his forehead, Sans grasped Dr. Gaster’s arm to steady himself. “i was right, this floor is hard,” Sans giggled, then hissed in pain and let go of Dr. Gaster to cradle his head.

Dr. Gaster gripped the small skeleton’s shoulders to keep him from falling over. [“IS ANYTHING BROKEN, SANS? LET ME SEE, PLEASE, I CAN HEAL YOU.”]

“jus’—urgh—m’head,” Sans groaned. The room seemed to be spinning gently around the small skeleton

He allowed Dr. Gaster to pull his hands down, but he had to grab the taller skeleton’s sleeve with both hands to keep himself steady. Warm green magic washed over him, quickly numbing the pain, and Sans sighed in relief. “thanks, doc,” he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment.

Things went fuzzy for the small skeleton for a time. When he opened his eyes again, he was . . . being carried?

[“SANS, CAN YOU HEAR ME?”] Dr. Gaster asked, his booming, grinding voice bouncing around in Sans’ skull for a moment while he processed the strange font.

“yeah,” Sans groaned. “but why you carryin’ me, doc?”

[“YOU PASSED OUT, SANS,”] Dr. Gaster explained. [“JUST FOR A FEW SECONDS, BUT I’M TAKING YOU TO . . . OFFICE . . . HEAR ME? SANS?”]

Sans blinked slowly. Had he missed a few words there? “what?”

[“I’M TAKING . . . MEDICAL . . . ALRIGHT?”]

Sans’ hearing was definitely going in and out, and the scientist in him was fascinated that the speech bubbles would reflect that. The rest of him just felt jostled and confused.

[“SANS?”]

“hm?” That wasn’t the first time the doctor had called his name. Sans sighed. “sorry, i . . . . can’t focus . . . on your, um. letters? words?”

[“MY FONT?” ]

Sans studied the symbols extra hard and then nodded. “font. yeah. i just . . . urgh. ‘m dizzy.”

Dr. Gaster said something else, but Sans didn’t know what he said—he was too focused on trying to get his vision to stop swimming.

It only took a few minutes for a professional healer to clear up the monster’s equivalent of a concussion. Sans slid off the chair that was a tad too tall for him and steadied himself against the wall, but from there, it was like the accident had never happened. Dr. Gaster continued apologizing profusely, but Sans waved it off. “you shoulda seen me after my brother first turned me blue! i had four broken ribs! luckily, papyrus is a great healer. but maybe listen next time i tell you somethin’, yeah?”

[“OF COURSE, SANS. THANK YOU FOR TEACHING ME ABOUT BLUE MAGIC, AND . . . THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME. I AM A SILLY OLD MAN SOMETIMES, AND I MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE TODAY. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN AGAIN, I ASSURE YOU.”]

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed to be a bit bashful. “aw, doc, ‘s all good. thanks for healin’ me up. i . . . honestly haven’t felt this good in a while.”

Dr. Gaster nodded, [“THAT’S RIGHT, I’D FORGOTTEN YOU HAVE A BONE CONDITION.”] Dr. Gaster paused as it fully sank in that he was lucky Sans’ injury had been as small as it was, since his bones were so brittle. He’d probably given the poor boy quite the scare. [“WOULD YOU LIKE TO TAKE A FEW DAYS OFF? THAT WAS A RATHER NASTY FALL.”]

Sans instantly waved the thought away. “nah, i’ve got some projects i’m getting close to finishing, an’ i don’t want to lose any _momentum_ , heh. would be a shame to _fall_ behind, yanno?”

Dr. Gaster smiled despite himself. [“ALRIGHT, SANS, BUT PLEASE TAKE THE REST OF THE DAY OFF—I INSIST.”]

“alright, doc, if you’re sure.”

[“I AM. IN FACT, WHERE DO YOU LIVE?”]

“...new home. why?” Sans answered with some hesitation.

Dr. Gaster smiled brightly. [“HOW CONVENIENT! I AM GOING TO NEW HOME FOR LUNCH TODAY! I WILL WALK YOU HOME, SANS.”] No matter where Sans lived, Dr. Gaster would have gone to lunch there today.

The way Sans’ eyebrows arched at him, he was probably aware of Dr. Gaster’s sleight of hand, but it was clearly not up for debate. “sure, if that’ll make you feel better,” Sans said, his frozen smile never falling despite a bitter undertone of his voice.

Dr. Gaster pulled up short and faced Sans squarely. [“I DO NOT PITY YOU, SANS. IF YOU’RE WORRIED THAT I WILL START TO TREAT YOU LIKE GLASS, YOU MAY PUT THOSE FEARS TO REST THIS INSTANT! YOU GAVE ME VERY CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS, WHICH I DISREGARDED, AND HAD I NOT DONE SUCH, YOU WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN INJURED. WHO AM I TO QUESTION YOU, WHO ARE THE EXPERT ON THE MATTER OF YOURSELF AND YOUR OWN SAFETY?”]

Sans blinked a few times, and then his eyes crinkled as his frozen smile became more real. He shoved his hands into his hoodie and kneaded the fabric, embarrassed but clearly pleased. “i, uh, . . . thanks, doc.”

[“YOU ARE MOST WELCOME, SANS,”] Dr. Gaster nodded. He resumed walking towards the lab exit, and Sans followed close behind.

“you know, you remind me so much of my brother,” Sans said, a fond smile in his voice.

Dr. Gaster was intrigued. [“THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME YOU HAVE SAID THAT TODAY. MAY I MEET THIS BROTHER OF YOURS?”]

Sans’ eyes lit up like stars. “of course! aw, papyrus is the best! he’s the one who taught me cyan magic, you know, and he’s only thirteen! ‘es a real prodigy, i’m tellin ya!”

[“IS THAT SO? WELL, THAT DOES SOUND LIKE ME.”]

Sans continued to brag on his younger brother, and Dr. Gaster listened, enraptured by the change that occurred in Sans’ usually quiet, snarky attitude as he ranted and raved about the child. Dr. Gaster found himself flattered to be associated with someone Sans clearly loved and admired.

“ma! i’m home!” Sans called as he strolled through the front door of an apartment in New Home.

Dr. Gaster paused a moment in surprise—he’d forgotten that Sans was still living with his parents. Sans handled himself so well beyond his years that Dr. Gaster had simply come to think of him as one of his coworkers instead of a nineteen-year-old boy.

A skeleton woman with a round face, empty eye sockets, and hunched back came around the corner, rubbing her phalanges dry with a kitchen towel.

[“excuse me, did i hear that correctly? sans is home? and why, exactly, is sans home at this particular time of day, eh?”]

Dr. Gaster nearly squealed with delight at her font, coughing instead, but he stared at it fondly—all Greek symbols! Higher mathematics must have been a delight for her!

“ma, relax, i just got sent home early,” Sans was saying in an ‘I’ll tell you later’ voice. When Dr. Gaster coughed, Sans startled and hurried to make introductions. “ma, this is dr. gaster, my boss. doc, this is my ma. i’m gonna go get papyrus.” Sans scurried down a hallway, leaving Dr. Gaster standing on the threshold.

Sans’ mother put on a brave smile and shook Gaster’s hand. [“dr. gaster! how wonderful to meet you!”]

[“LIKEWISE, MADAM,”] Gaster said, beaming at her. [“YOU KNOW, YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL FONT.”]

She held a hand to her rounded cheek in surprise. [“why, thank you! please, call me sammy! oh, come in, come in! i hope my sans has been behaving himself?”]

Dr. Gaster followed Sammy into the living room and sat on the couch across from her. [“OH, ABSOLUTELY—WE SIMPLY HAD A MINOR ACCIDENT, AND I’M SENDING HIM HOME FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE DAY.”]

The woman’s smile instantly fell. [“sans got hurt, didn’t he?”]

Dr. Gaster cringed. [“YES, I’M AFRAID SO. THE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT HEALED HIM IMMEDIATELY, BUT I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE BEST FOR HIM TO COME HOME AND REST.”]

Sammy nodded, but she still clutched the kitchen towel over her soul. [“may i ask what happened?”]

[“IT WAS MY FAULT,”] Dr. Gaster blurted, looking down at his shoes in shame. [“HE WAS SHOWING ME HOW TO USE BLUE MAGIC. I DELIBERATELY IGNORED HIS INSTRUCTIONS AND USED IT ON HIS SOUL. HE CRACKED HIS SKULL, BUT THANKS TO THE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT, HE HAS MADE A FULL RECOVERY.”] Looking up, Dr. Gaster saw the soul-wrenching sight of tears streaking down Sammy’s round face. [“I AM SO, INCREDIBLY SORRY,”] Dr. Gaster whispered, as much as any uppercaser could whisper.

[“i understand,”] Sammy said with a sniff, and she wiped her dark eyesockets with her towel. [“thank you for getting him medical attention, and thank you for bringing him home, doctor. he—hah—he’s such a good boy, and he’s so careful but we . . . we worry. but sans is alright, isn’t he? he has such a tenacious soul—he won’t let this keep him down, so we won’t, either! ah, i’m sorry! here you are, listening to a mother’s silly rambling!”] Sammy took a moment to struggle to her feet, her back clearly giving her pain.

[“OH, ALLOW ME TO ASSIST—”] Dr. Gaster lurched forward to give her his arm, but she waved him off.

[“no, no, i’m quite alright, but you had probably better get back to work, haven’t you?”]

[“I’M ACTUALLY ON BREAK AT THE MOMENT,”] Dr. Gaster said. [“I DECIDED TO HAVE SOME LUNCH IN NEW HOME, SO I WALKED WITH SANS ON MY WAY. HE WAS QUITE KEEN TO HAVE ME MEET—”]

“HELLO DR. GASTER!” a bright, young boy’s voice called out. Dr. Gaster turned to see the child, who was quite tall for his age. He had a long face like Gaster’s own, though his eyesockets were empty and his cheekbones more pronounced. The boy puffed out his ribs and smiled up at the doctor proudly. “I’M PAPYRUS!”

[“HELLO, THERE, PAPYRUS,”] Dr. Gaster greeted, smiling at the uppercased enthusiasm. [“SANS HAS TOLD ME SO MUCH ABOUT YOU.”]

“OH, YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL ABOUT WHAT SANS SAYS,” Papyrus tsked. “HE CAN SAY LOTS OF THINGS WITHOUT TELLING YOU ANYTHING YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO KNOW!”

The skeleton in question stepped up behind his younger but taller brother and poked the boy in the ribs. “c’mon, papyrus, you’re embarassin’ me in front of my boss!” Turning to Dr. Gaster, Sans shrugged apologetically. “sorry for the wait—he insisted on brushin’ his teeth first.”

“NOW _YOU’RE_ EMBARRASSING _ME_ IN FRONT OF YOUR BOSS!” Papyrus huffed with a stomp of his foot.

[“ORAL HYGIENE IS VERY IMPORTANT FOR US SKELETONS,”] Dr. Gaster nodded sagely.

“EXACTLY! SANS, YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO YOUR BOSS MORE!” Papyrus said.

“my teeth are fused,” Sans shrugged. “’s not worth the trouble, trust me.”

Dr. Gaster frowned. [“ACTUALLY, A FUSED JAW WOULD GIVE MORE REASONS TO BRUSH REGULARLY. I HOPE YOU FOLLOW YOUR BROTHER’S EXAMPLE BEFORE YOU GET ANY TOOTHACHES.”]

Sammy, who had been startled by her younger son bothering the doctor and moved to intervene, now smiled softly as Papyrus’s eyesockets sparkled.

“YOU WERE RIGHT, SANS! I _DO_ LIKE DR. GASTER!”

Sammy shook her head, smiling wider now, and returned to the kitchen. Dr. Gaster and the boys migrated to sit at the table as they continued talking, and in short order, Sammy had placed bowls of soup and plates of salad in front of them.

[“OH, I DIDN’T MEAN TO INTRUDE,”] Dr. Gaster said, pushing back his chair to stand, but Sammy waved his apology away.

[“you said you came to new home for lunch, right? it’s no bother, doctor,”] she said with a smile.

The front door opened and closed, and Papyrus bolted to it. “POPS! HOW WAS WORK TODAY?”

“JUST FINE, HAD A FEW PEOPLE LOCK THEMSELVES OUT OF THEIR SHEDS WAS ALL,” a new warm, booming voice laughed. The skeleton who walked behind Papyrus to the table was tall, had a long face, but his jaw was clearly fused, like his older son’s. His magical aura gave him a rounded belly, which shook as he laughed at Papyrus’s excited babbling. The lights in his eye sockets then looked up to see the guest at his table, and he did a quick double take.

“UNCLE DINGS??”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Dr. Gaster, who inwardly groaned _Oh dear_.

Dr. Gaster was an old monster. Having never married or had children, he had ceased aging once he reached maturity. The majority of his siblings were more keen to have their own families, and so they had multiplied, and as a result so many nieces and nephews had come and gone that Gaster had thoroughly lost track of all of them. Since he was not the most social of skeletons to begin with, he had simply stopped coming to family reunions since he no longer knew anyone there. By now, Dr. Gaster hadn’t had contact with any family in, oh, fifty years? Perhaps sixty. Certainly before he had been rewarded a surname, and perhaps before he’d become the Royal Scientist.

[“I-I DO APOLOGIZE, I DID NOT REALIZE—”] he began.

“NO, IT’S ALRIGHT!” his estranged nephew smiled as he approached. “I DOUBT YOU’D REMEMBER ME, I WAS JUST A BABYBONES WHEN I MET YOU. THE NAME’S FRANK.”

Dr. Gaster stood and shook Frank’s hand. [“A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, FRANK, AND YOUR FAMILY. I, AH, WAS NOT AWARE THAT I HAD HIRED A NEPHEW IN MY PHYSICS DEPARTMENT,”] Dr. Gaster laughed. He stole a glance at Sans, whose eye sockets were open as wide as possible and eyelights were mere pinpricks.

“uh.” Sans said when he realized everyone was looking at him. “didn’t know either. so, uh, hi? uncle gaster???”

Dr. Gaster must have made some sort of face, because Sammie burst out laughing—or giggling, rather, since she was a lowercase—and had to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from falling over. Frank rubbed the back of his skull and shrugged awkwardly, but Papyrus said, “I GUESS IT MAKES SENSE THAT I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, THEN! BUT DON’T WORRY, WE CAN STILL CALL YOU DR. GASTER IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER!”

[“O-OH, NO, THAT’S NOT—I MEAN, SANS, YES, AT LEAST AT WORK, BUT THE REST OF YOU . . . MAY CALL ME . . . .”] Dr. Gaster struggled, but finally rolled the new-old name between his teeth. [“. . . UNCLE GASTER.”]

A warm (and healthy, for once) lunch later, Dr. Gaster excused himself to return to work, and he had Sans’ word that they’d take lunch together tomorrow. For the first time in a long time, Dr. Gaster felt curious about his estranged family, and when he was very honest with himself, he was almost . . . excited? flattered? to be related to such fine people. Sans, of course, was working as a full-time employee and going to graduate school at the age of nineteen, and Papyrus was a treasure trove of potential with how strong his magic was. They apparently had a younger sister named Sitka who was at school the first time he’d come, and she was already showing great aptitude for math and science. Frank was a locksmith, and he had developed into a skilled teleporter due to that line of work. Sammy, as Dr. Gaster had suspected, had been an exacting mathematician in her day, though she now spent most of her time teaching Papyrus, who had struggled in a traditional classroom and was consequently home schooled. Sammy and Frank doted on their children, and on each other, and Dr. Gaster was proud to call them family, even as new as the idea was.

A few months later, Sans’s birthday came up. The boy had been looking forward to no longer being a teenager for a long while now, and so a party was in order. Dr. Gaster was invited to help the family celebrate, though when he arrived with gift in tow, he passed Frank leading the children out.

“hey uncle gaster, we’re going to the movies!” little Sitka squealed. “wanna come?”

“IT’S A TRADITION!” Papyrus added. “FOR EVERY BIRTHDAY, POPS TAKES OUT TO SEE THE LATEST AND GREATEST ENTERTAINMENT IN THE WHOLE UNDERGROUND!”

[“OH, THAT’S QUITE CHARMING!”] Dr. Gaster said. [“I WOULDN’T DREAM OF INTRUDING ON YOUR SPECIAL FAMILY TIME!”]

“I’D HARDLY CALL IT ‘INTRUDING’, UNCLE DINGS,” Frank laughed

Sans, however, shook his head. “it’s alright, the doc’s probably not really a movie-type.”

[“INDEED NOT,”] Dr. Gaster admitted. [“I DO APPRECIATE THE INVITATION, AND I DO HOPE YOU CHILDREN HAVE FUN!”]

“OH, OKAY!” Papyrus said “YOU CAN KEEP MOTHER COMPANY THEN! SHE DOESN’T LIKE MOVIES EITHER FOR SOME MYSTERIOUS REASON! SO YOU TWO CAN BE SPOILSPORTS TOGETHER! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“NOW, NOW, PAPYRUS, DON’T BE TALKING ABOUT YOUR MOTHER THAT WAY,” Frank chided gently. He left the door open as he herded his children down the street. “PLEASE DO FEEL FREE TO KEEP SAMMY COMPANY, UNCLE DINGS. WE’LL BE BACK IN A FEW HOURS.”

Dr. Gaster waved goodbye, smiling at Sitka’s “i wanna get a big popcorn this time, can i can i? pleeeeaaaaassse?” and Sans’s retort, “only if you share, sissy.” She obviously emulated Sans’s mode of speech, though she kept pace with Papyrus just fine as they bounced along the sidewalk. She had her mother’s round face and malleable though fused teeth. Sans and Frank had frozen smiles while Papyrus was the only one in the family that had a fully detachable jaw. It was not the only way the middle child was unique, Dr. Gaster mused as he stepped in the home and closed the door behind him.

Sammy poked her head around the corner and smiled. [“oh, hello uncle gaster. i though i heard your voice! do come in!”]

She returned to the kitchen, so Dr. Gaster followed her, placing Sans’s present on the counter. [“MAY I HELP YOU WITH ANYTHING?”] he asked.

Sammy, who was elbow-deep in dough, simply smiled at him. [“absolutely not! this is my grandmother’s secret recipe, after all. can’t go sharing my secrets with the whole underground, now can i?”]

[“I SUPPOSE NOT,”] Dr. Gaster laughed. He took a seat at the counter and clasped his hands under his chin. [“SAMMY, MAY I ASK YOU SOMETHING?”]

[“yes?”] Sammy didn’t look up from kneading her dough, but she did cock her skull to listen.

[“YOUR NAME IS SYMBOLS, CORRECT?”]

[“yes.”]

[“AND FRANK IS SHORT FOR FRANKLIN, OBVIOUSLY, AND SANS’ FULL NAME IS COMIC SANS, AND SITKA HAS BEEN CALLED SISSY BY ALL OF YOU AT SOME POINT, I THINK. SO, WHY IS IT THAT PAPYRUS DOESN’T HAVE A NICKNAME? WHY, I EVEN WENT BY DINGS OR WD UNTIL I RECEIVED A SURNAME.”]

Sammy smiled a bit sadly. [“papyrus is a very special child. he can do so much so well, but he also struggles with simple everyday tasks. he tends to get fixated on things, sometimes for years. he hates it when people use nicknames for him. he always has. it’s just one of his quirks.”]

[“I UNDERSTAND QUIRKS,”] Dr. Gaster smirked. [“I HAVE ENOUGH MYSELF. THE BOY IS QUITE BRILLIANT WITH MAGIC, FROM WHAT I HEAR.”]

[“that he is,”] Sammy agreed. She extracted her bony fingers from the dough. [“he has the best degree of control i’ve ever seen in a monster. we were so afraid he might injure sans that we might have gone a bit overboard, telling him to be careful every time he materialized a bone. he’s even managed bones that don’t deal any damage!”]

Dr. Gaster was intrigued. [“REALLY? I’VE NEVER HEARD OF ANYONE DOING THAT BEFORE.”]

[“i’ve seen it with my own eyesockets,”] Sammie assured him. She started scrubbing her fingerbones to free lingering dough and sighed, [“we had hoped he could start training at the royal guard academy. magically, he would more than qualify, but . . . well, perhaps when he’s older.”]

Their conversation turned to more trivial things, and Dr. Gaster did eventually find a way to help with dinner. Frank and the children came back, and the family enjoyed a beautiful meal while the younger two children explained the movie in regaling detail. Sans made an occasional comment, usually joking about plot convenience, but for the most part, he seemed content to sit back and enjoy time with the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “what, just because we didn’t talk about our folks for a day you thought we were born in a petri dish or somethin’?”
> 
> Pretty much the entire fandom thinks that Sans and Papyrus were either orphaned, abandoned, or born in petri dishes (which are all valid and interesting theories at this point), so I thought I'd throw my own little "what if" out there.
> 
> Also, I checked the game text, and I couldn't find anyone who calls Papyrus by Paps, Papy, or anything like that. Just thought that was interesting.
> 
> I'm not an artist, but [I posted a picture of the family](https://mathmusic8.tumblr.com/post/620829865118187520/once-again-i-know-im-not-an-artist-but-since-i) if you wanna see what I had in mind.


	2. A Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happens a few years after Uncle Gaster joins the family. It's a lot shorter than the intro, but more is coming. Eventually.

Gaster worked his way through the hospital with a bouquet of flowers straight from the king’s garden. There seemed to be a bit of a commotion with a family of dogs taking up a few rooms, and Gaster winced as he walked past them. Dog families were always very large and _very_ supportive in times of need, which wasn’t always the . . . _best_ combination with transmutable sicknesses. As a result, entire waves of the family would be down at a time until the proper antibodies were built up throughout the entire colony. Gaster was more than happy to leave them to their own business.

He turned down a couple more hallways before he found the room he was looking for.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be a bad time.

“NO I KANT TAK BETTAH. I KAN HEAH BETTAH THAN NOT THO.”

Was that . . . Sammy? Gaster’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. _Sammy_ was _yelling_ in _Common_. It sounded as if she had some sort of speech impediment, but it was absolutely Common font.

Gaster knocked urgently on the door, calling out with the help of his translator, [“ **Sammy? It’s Dr. Gaster. Can I come in?** ”]

[“oh, thank heavens, yes, come in!]” Sammy called in her normal font, sounding rather exasperated.

Gaster pushed open the door, and both the skeleton in bed and the feline nurse looked absolutely relieved. “Hello, sir,” the cat monster greeted, her toothy smile tense. “I’m so sorry to impose, but would you by chance be capable of translating for Sammy for a few minutes?”

[ **“It would be my pleasure,”** ] Gaster agreed.

Sammy snapped, [“tell her that _yes_ i absolutely know my full name, and it’s symbols, _not_ sylfaen, i’m fifty-five years old, the memory test was penny, dog, mountain, shoes, red, and water, and i’m here because i broke my silly leg, _not_ here because i’m senile!”]

Gaster could unfortunately relate to Sammy’s frustrations very well and grimaced sympathetically. [ **“How long has this ‘conversation’ been going on between you two?”** ]

[“thirty minutes, which i’ll never get back,”] Sammy all but snarled. [“she _knows_ i have a limited vocabulary, i _know_ it’s on my file because _i put it there ten years ago!_ ”]

The nurse waited for Sammy to finish and unwittingly repeated, “Half an hour.”

Gaster sighed. [ **“I see.”** ] He repeated Sammy’s answers to the nurse’s earlier questions, as well as her reminder that her speech issues were included in her file, word for word how Sammy had told him, like a proper translator should. The situation quickly diffused as the nurse realized she was in the wrong patient’s room. She left with a flurry of apologies and distressed whimpers.

Sammy and Gaster each took in a deep breath once the nurse was gone and let it out slowly, calming strained nerves and enjoying a moment of peace. Gaster set the flowers at Sammy’s bedside, and she rubbed a petal between her boney fingers with a smile.

[“thank you so much for your help, dear,”] Sammy sighed.

Gaster turned off his translator for the remainder of their visit. [“I HEARD YOU SHOUTING IN THE HALL AND I ADMIT, I FEARED SOMETHING TERRIBLE MUST HAVE HAPPENED.”]

[“hmm,”] Sammy hummed. [“you’ve never seen me yell before, eh? i’m fairly lucky to have quite a few common letters in my uppercase font, unlike some of you.”] Her tone was soft, but not pitying—she understood Gaster’s struggle as well as any monster could.

[“I WAS A YOUNG MAN WHEN I INVENTED THE FONT REGULATOR,”] Gaster said with a fond smile. He unclipped the device from his jacket and turned it over in his hands. [“I WAS SO TIRED OF BEING IGNORED. I HAD _IDEAS,_ AND I WAS GOING INSANE TRYING TO COMMUNICATE THEM. WHEN I FINALLY GOT THE THE REGULATOR TO WORK, I FELT LIKE A NEW PERSON. THAT DAY, I VOWED NO SKELETON WOULD EVER HAVE TO ENDURE WHAT I HAD, AND I GOT THEM MASS PRODUCED.”]

Gaster looked up at Sammy, his unspoken question sitting heavily between his teeth, but he looked at Sammy, saw the shadows under her eyesockets, and knew that this was a conversation she’d had many times before.

The Font Regulators weren’t exactly rare, but they weren’t exactly common, either. There were only so many skeleton monsters, and only so many of them needed a translator. Thus, the price wasn’t exorbitant, but it was a substantial expense nonetheless. And in the years that Gaster had gotten to know Frank and Sammy’s family, he had come to realize a few things.

One, that Frank’s line of business didn’t generate enough work to get him a stable pay. He made up for slower seasons with rather under-the-table type small businesses, like his hot dog stand, handyman gig, and radio repairs.

Two, that Sammy, Sans, Sitka, and even Papyrus to some degree had chronic medical issues that required regular treatments, checkups, and Sans in particular had more emergencies than typical monsters due to his fragile bones.

Three, that Sans and Sitka had gotten through college by relying on grants, loans, and working part time jobs. When Papyrus’s grant application to the Royal Guard Academy had been denied due to his condition, he had simply not gone.

Four, that Sammy was an incredibly resourceful homemaker and made the family’s clothes by hand and nearly every meal from scratch.

All of this and more was succinctly communicated by Sammy’s quiet statement of, [“we had other priorities.”] Her old, worn finger bones clenched around her lap blanket and she averted eye contact, but there was a fire in her bones that kept her shoulders square, despite her hunched back, and Gaster wouldn’t dream of insulting her pride by offering her a Font Regulator on the spot.

No, he would have to be more devious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look at the Symbols font on MS Word, there are 11 capital letters that translate directly to English: ABEHIKMNOTZ. That gives Sammy a few important words, like HI and NO, but she prefers to have someone translate for her in public (usually her daughter Sitka is with her when she goes out).


	3. A Phone Call

Gaster sat back in his home office chair and analyzed his growing list of ideas. Some were quite convoluted, if he were honest with himself, but perhaps complexity was good in this situation—all the better for him to remain undetected.

The first order of business was a simple phone call. Gaster turned on his Font Regulator and set it on his desk beside his phone, which he switched to speakerphone as soon as he dialed. After three or four rings, he received an answer.

_“Hello, this is Grillby.”_

Gaster smiled at hearing Grillby’s familiar quiet voice. [“ **Hello, Grillby, this is Dr. Gaster. How are you, my old friend?** ”]

_“Doing well, how about yourself?”_

[“ **Just splendid! I had a question for you, if you have a minute.** ”]

_“Fire away.”_

Gaster slapped a hand over his teeth before he could laugh—even with his translator, it was a grating sound to most monsters and he knew Grillby had particularly sensitive hearing. [“ **I see Sans has been rubbing off on you** ,”] Gaster huffed, and Grillby’s hissing laugh struggled to come through the phone’s connection, but Gaster knew what it was when he heard it. [“ **Speaking of Sans, I just got back from visiting his mother Sammy in the hospital.** ”]

Grillby’s voice instantly dropped a few notes in worry _. “Oh, I was not aware she was ill. I’m sorry to hear that. Is she going to be alright?”_

[“ **Yes, she was just out walking with Papyrus and fell and broke her leg. Due to some of her compounding health conditions, she has to stay at the hospital for a few more days.** ”] Gaster picked up his pencil and scribbled a note to himself to find out the exact day Sammy was scheduled to come home—that would be important for a different scheme. [“ **On that note, I’m actually calling to ask you for a favor.** ”]

 _“Of course you are,”_ Grillby said in a teasing, smirky voice that was reserved for close friends and family. _“If you’d wanted to gossip you would’ve shown up in person.”_

Gaster rolled his eyelights. [“ **That’s because you hate talking on the phone just as much as I do, you old lump of coal. Thank you and you’re welcome.** ”]

Grillby snorted at Gaster’s mock arrogance, and Gaster smiled. It was nice to talk to him again and revive some of these old gags. Gaster made another note to stop by Grillby’s for lunch sometime soon. As an afterthought, Gaster said, [“ **I also don’t want to risk having this conversation with you while Sans is there.** ”]

Grillby hummed in agreement. _“Good call. He usually comes in about half an hour from now. So, what can this old lump of coal do for the sagacious Royal Scientist?”_

Twirling the pencil in his fingers, Gaster flicked the eraser in a tapping staccato next to the first item on his list: _Medical Bills_.

[“ **I’d like you to be my liaison to make an anonymous donation to Sammy’s hospital bills,** ”] Gaster said.

 _“. . . Oh?”_ Grillby said, sounding a little bemused. _“Why would you need a third party?”_

[“ **Because I’ll be a prime suspect,** ”] Gaster said. [“ **I told you, I visited Sammy today. This way, even if the hospital staff get chatty, they won’t be throwing my name around.** ”]

 _“I would think the hospital staff would be more professional than that,”_ Grillby scolded. The unspoken _You’re such a paranoid sack of bones_ was heavy in his voice.

[“ **It’s not the staff I’m most worried about. If you thought Sans can be wily when he wants to be, you should meet his mother**.”]

Grillby’s hissing laughter returned. _“I see what this is about. You’re all too prideful to accept help, so you have to work overtime to make it look like a coincidence.”_

[“ **That does sum up the family, yes,** ”] Gaster nodded to himself.

 _“Alright, alright, that’s respectable in its own right, I suppose,"_ Grillby laughed again. _“So, how much am I donating and you reimbursing?”_

Gaster told him the figures while he tapped it with his eraser, and there was a long silence on the other end. Gaster fidgeted, turning his pencil around to scribble _Too much? Can he not afford it on short notice? I can pay him before he donates._ It helped him to have a small outlet of his anxious thoughts. Gaster knew he was paying more than twice the amount to cover this single hospital visit, but if he’d read the situation correctly, between Sammy, Sans, and Sitka, hospital bills weren’t exactly once-in-a-blue-moon occurrences.

As the silence stretched a little too long, Gaster said, [“ **I can pay you in advance, Grillby.** ”]

_“No, no, that won’t be necessary, I just . . . . You’re a good monster, W. D. Gaster. How are you not married?”_

Gaster groaned long and loud, but with a small smile on his face. Grillby couldn’t see him, after all.

Grillby continued, _“In all seriousness, Gaster, you know Magnella’s sister—”_

[“ **Grillby, no.** ”]

_“Do you know how many times Magnella talks to her about you? And she has the same reaction as you do! You two were made for each other!”_

[“ **Grillby, please tell your dear wife that outside of the mathematical realm, two negatives do not always make a positive.** ”] 

_“Have you even met Lavanya? We could arrange something—”_

[“ **Grillby, I already tried.** ”]

It was a statement Gaster had said many times over the years, and Grillby always respected Gaster’s feelings and dropped the issue immediately. At least Gaster’s initial bitterness, once hot and sharp, had faded by now into a distant grief.

This time, however, Grillby didn’t change the subject. He was careful in tone and delivery as he said, _“You know Gaster, my old friend, I don’t think Julie would have ever wanted to hear you say that.”_

Gaster’s soul stuttered.

Gaster was an old monster. There wasn’t much that anyone could say that he hadn’t heard before, at some point or other. But every once in a while, there would come something strange, or something new, and every once in a _great_ while, it would cause a mental implosion blow so hard, he was actually speechless. It had been years since his last one, but . . . .

This was one of those times.

Gaster set his elbows on his desk and covered his face with his hands, his pencil still between his fingers on his right hand, and just breathed for a few moments. Then he clasped his hands under his chin in a prayer-like fashion and started picking up the pieces of his mind—assigning names to feelings, reasons to the feelings, and so on.

Thankfully, Grillby knew what this looked like in person, and he was an exceptionally patient monster. There was occasional static from the phone as his flames naturally hissed and popped, but the fire monster said nothing.

When Gaster spoke, it had been about four minutes of complete silence between the pair. Even as he talked, Gaster made a note to do something nice for Grillby to thank him for putting up with Gaster’s nonsense. [“ **I think you’re right about that, Grillby. It is time I’ve moved on, isn’t it?** ”]

 _“Take your time, old friend,”_ Grillby said. _“Are you going to be alright?”_

[“ **Yes, thank you. I really . . . .** ”] Gaster’s voice caught on a lump in his magical throat, and he waited patiently for his Font Regulator to register the half-sentence and translate it, which always took an extra couple seconds, before he continued. [“ **I really needed to hear that.** ”]

Gaster cleared his throat and returned to tapping his pencil’s eraser against his list. [“ **Well, I’ll come by in a few days to reimburse you for the donation. Is there a time I can come when Sans will for certain not be there?** ”]

 _“Midmorning is generally a safe time,”_ Grillby said. _“On weekdays, anyway. Weekends can be a more sporadic.”_

[“ **Understood. I think I’ll try for Monday, then, perhaps around 10:30.** ”] Gaster decided.

 _“Sounds good. Take care, my friend. See you Monday,”_ Grillby said in farewell.

[“ **Thank you again, Grillby. See you Monday,** ”] Gaster repeated and hung up.

He wrote down the details of his new commitment, and then he paused. He had just given Grillby an exact date, time, and location of his whereabouts right after admitting that he might be willing to be in a relationship again.

This could only end in one way.


	4. An Inspection

Gaster learned from Sans that Sammy would be coming home on Sunday, which only gave Gaster the next day, Saturday, to pull off one of his ideas. He spent the rest of the evening locating parts he suspected he would need and packing them into his messenger bag, along with a versatile tool kit.

The next morning, Gaster did his shopping just as fast as monsterly possible, with the exception of several minutes spent scouring the dessert isle for sales. The only one he found was for cotton candy, and Gaster knew for a fact that at least Papyrus and Sammy detested that amount of teeth-rotting sugar. He ended up finding an avocado sale, however, so he bought ten avocados, some chips, and rushed home. Gaster set the avocados in a mixing bowl and dialed Frank’s number while he put away the groceries. At least he wouldn’t need his Font Regulator for this call.

 _“HELLO FOR POPS!”_ Papyrus’s voice answered.

[“OH, HELLO PAPYRUS! HOW ARE YOU?”] Gaster greeted warmly. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Frank to leave his cell phone around while he ran short errands, and the children were used to taking calls for him.

 _“HELLO UNCLE GASTER! I AM BEAUTIFULLY WELL! IT’S LIKE QUITE WELL, BUT BETTER!”_ Papyrus said.

Gaster smiled at the boy’s strange but infallible logic. [“THAT’S WONDERFUL TO HEAR, PAPYRUS. WOULD YOU HAPPEN TO BE AT HOME AT THE MOMENT?”]

_“I WOULD NOT, ACTUALLY, FOR YOU SEE, WE ARE HAVING FAMILY BONDING TIME IN MOTHER’S HOSPITAL ROOM. OOOH, WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US?”_

_Perfect!_ Gaster thought. He couldn’t have asked for a better setup. [“WHY, I’D BE DELIGHTED TO! IN FACT, I THINK I REMEMBER SEEING A SALE AT THE STORE FOR AVOCADOS. HOW WOULD EVERYONE LIKE SOME GUACAMOLE FOR REFRESHMENTS DURING OUR FAMILY BONDING TIME?”]

Papyrus instantly answered _, “Oh, yes please! Guacamole tastes great and it’s good for you! Even Sans likes it, and he doesn’t like any healthy things!”_

Gaster laughed and shook his head at Papyrus’s brutal honesty. [“ALRIGHT, THEN! IT’LL TAKE SOME TIME TO GET IT READY, SO EXPECT ME TO BE THERE IN ABOUT TWO HOURS,”] he said.

_“Perfect! Then we can have guacamole for lunch and not just refreshments! Nyeh heh heh!”_

[“INDEED,”] Gaster smiled. [“ALRIGHT, PAPYRUS, I WILL SEE YOU SOON!”]

Papyrus simply hung up, as he was wont to do, and Gaster finished putting his groceries away a moment later. He left the avocados in their bowl on the counter and heaved his messenger bag full of tools and spare parts into his arms.

It took a great deal of effort, but with enough magic and hard focus, Gaster managed to teleport just inside Frank and Sammy’s home on the other side of the city. It took a lot out of him, however, and Gaster stumbled as soon as he landed, the heavy bag of parts easily dragging him down to his hands and knees. Gaster laughed a little to himself. He’d had worse landings, but he was very glad no one had been there to see this.

After a few minutes of rest, Gaster was able to stand up and start his inspection of each and every household appliance. He took note of the makes and models, the general appearance, and made rough estimates towards their ages and durability.

He started in the kitchen, which had at least one appliance he already knew needed a tune up—the oven light had been broken for several months now. The bulb he had brought with him was a little small, but it screwed in properly, and some light would be better than none.

Taking a hard look at their dishwasher, Gaster made a note to look for a newer model later. Their current machine still worked, as far as he knew, but it was a much older model than he’d realized, and it would be due for replacement within a year or two. Gaster took some measurements and wrote them down next to his earlier note.

Gaster checked his watch and nodded—he still had lots of time. The fridge and freezer each looked fine, but the chest freezer’s power cord was missing several inches of plastic casing. Gaster pulled the freezer away from the wall and climbed into the small space that created to reach the cord better. He was wrapping the exposed wires with electrical tape when he heard the absolutely very last sound he wanted to hear at that moment.

Footsteps in the entryway.

Gaster’s first instinct was to hide, which was convenient because he was already crouched down behind the chest freezer in the pantry. Next he wanted to teleport, but he gasped as he realized he’d left his messenger bag in the doorway. Whoever had teleported home just now couldn’t have possibly missed it.

“hello?!”

It was Sitka. Gaster breathed a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t Frank. Gaster loved his nephew dearly, but the man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. The children, on the other hand, could be persuaded.

“whoever’s in here, i caught you, okay? you need to come out right now!”

When his moment of relief passed, Gaster realized Sitka did sound very frightened, and he needed to act quickly before she called anyone. Gaster started climbing over the chest freezer, but then it occurred to him that the noise would only frighten her worse.

[“ALRIGHT, YOU’VE CAUGHT ME,”] he called out.

“uncle gaster?!” Sitka shrieked. She slammed the pantry door open, holding a long bone attack in one hand like a sword. “what are you doing here?? i thought you were buying avacados!!”

For a lowercaser, Sitka was an exceptionally expressive young lady. Gaster raised his hands in defeat and allowed her to prod his arm with her bone attack. Questions rained down on him like the dews of Waterfall without even a breath in between. “do you know how much papyrus is looking forward to that guacamole? and you _lied_ to him! how dare you lie to my brother like that! what are you even doing here? wait, are you _stealing_ our _freezer_?? why?? are you some kind of royal-scientist-by-day-thief-by-night psycho? but it’s the middle of the morning! and we’re _family_!”

Gaster could hardly fit a word in edgewise, but not for a lack of trying. [“NOW WAIT A JUST A MINUTE, I NEVER—SITKA, PLEASE, I—THERE’S A PERFECTLY LOGICAL—OH, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, CHILD, I WAS JUST FIXING THE CABLE!”]

“oh,” Sitka said. She lowered the bone attack, but then she thrust it back into his shoulder a moment later, darkened her eyesockets, and demanded, “and the guacamole?”

[“I BOUGHT THE AVOCADOS BEFORE I EVEN CALLED,”] Gaster huffed. [“IT’LL TAKE LESS THAN FIFTEEN MINUTES TO MAKE THE GUACAMOLE. I NEVER LIED, I JUST NEEDED TO BUY SOME TIME.”]

“to fix our freezer?” Sitka asked, her round face screwed up in confusion under the hood of her favorite blue sweatshirt. “why?”

She finally dissipated her attack and Gaster picked up the cord and resumed wrapping it with electrical tape as he explained, [“I’M NOT _JUST_ FIXING THE FREEZER, I’M LOOKING AT ANYTHING THAT NEEDS FIXED OR REPLACED SOON. CALL IT A SECRET SERVICE PROJECT FOR YOUR MOTHER.”]

Sitka was unsatisfied. “why?” she asked again.

[“BECAUSE SHE NEEDS THE MONEY TO BUY A FONT REGULATOR. SHE HASN’T BOUGHTEN ONE YET BECAUSE SOMETHING ALWAYS COMES UP, RIGHT? WELL, I’M GOING TO MAKE SURE NOTHING COMES UP FOR THE NEXT LITTLE WHILE, AND THEN SHE WON’T HAVE ANY MORE REASONS NOT TO BUY A REGULATOR HERSELF.”]

Sitka crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “wait, you just wanna give my mom one of those clip-on translator thingies? why don’t you just wrap one up and say ‘merry birthyear’ or something?”

 _Merry birthyear . . . ?_ It was either a new thing kids would say or a new thing Sitka would say. Gaster shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth it to ask. [“IF I TRIED, YOUR MOTHER WOULD PROBABLY JUST GIVE IT BACK.”]

Sitka shrugged. “then jump out the window. that’s what papyrus does.”

Gaster finished up with the electrical tape and plugged the freezer back in. [“THEN YOUR MOTHER WOULD EITHER RETURN IT TO THE STORE, OR HAVE SANS RETURN IT TO ME AT WORK, OR PERHAPS EVEN REGIFT IT TO ANOTHER SKELETON. SHE’S A VERY STUBBORN LADY WHEN SHE WANTS TO BE, AND SHE DOESN’T LIKE HANDOUTS.”]

Once Gaster had climbed back over the freezer, Sitka helped him push it back into place. “if she doesn’t like handouts— _huff_ —why are you trying to fix all our stuff? don’tcha think she’ll get mad?”

[“ _THAT’S_ WHY I’M DOING IT IN SECRET,”] Gaster reminded her. They walked out of the pantry and he set his electrical tape back in his messenger bag. [“AND NOW THAT YOU KNOW, YOU NEED TO KEEP IT A SECRET AS WELL. CAN YOU DO THAT?”]

Sitka’s smile widened considerably. “oooh, i _love_ secrets! does anyone else know? you didn’t already tell sans and papyrus, did you?”

[“NO, JUST YOU, AND I’D LIKE IT TO STAY THAT WAY,”] Gaster said.

“okay, deal! this way, i can tell you when i take mom out shopping so you can keep coming to fix things!”

Gaster was pleasantly surprised by her reaction—he was fully prepared to bribe her with any food or money necessary to keep her quiet, but she actually seemed eager to help. The more Gaster thought about it, the more he realized how useful it would be to have a constant monitor on Sammy’s whereabouts. [“EXCELLENT!”] he said.

“oh, wait, if you’re wanting to fix things, _please_ fix our dryer!” Sitka said. She slapped her hands to her cheeks and shook her head. “it _shrieks_ for, like, fifteen minutes when you first turn it on! papyrus takes it apart and puts it back together every other week, and that helps for a little while, but it never lasts.”

[“REALLY?”] Gaster grunted as he heaved his bag of tools up and walked into the laundry room. He set the bag down on top of the washer, and then he paused and tapped the machine. [“WHAT ABOUT THE WASHER? HOW OLD IS IT?”]

Sitka answered, “it’s basically brand new. our old one finally gave out a few weeks ago. my clothes were still in it, too. took _forever_ to get them dry.”

[“CAN’T BE HELPED, THEN,”] Gaster hummed. [“CAN YOU TURN ON THE DRYER FOR A MOMENT? I NEED TO HEAR IT TO IDENTIFY THE PROBLEM.”]

“oh, sure,” Sitka said. She turned a knob and flipped a switch.

SCREE SCREE SCREEEEEEE SCREEEEEEEE

[“WHAT ON EARTH IS MAKING IT SOUND LIKE THAT??!!”]

SCREE SCREE SCREE

“i dunno.”

SCREEEEEEE SCREEEEEEEE SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE

[“CEASE THAT UNHOLY CONNIPTION AT ONCE!!”] Gaster shouted, slamming his hands over his ear holes.

Sitka opened the hamper door to stop the dyer cycle. The noise took a few seconds to fully die down, and Sitka snickered at Gaster’s horrified expression. “told you.”

[“GOOD GRACIOUS, THAT HAS _GOT_ TO GO,”] Gaster groaned, rubbing his skull. [“NO DRYER SHOULD _EVER_ MAKE SUCH AN ABOMINABLE _WAILING_. WHAT AN OFFENSE TO ALL COMFORTS OF HOUSE AND HOME! IT SHALL BE DISMANTLED, MELTED DOWN, AND SCRAPPED FOR PARTS IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.”]

Sitka’s smile turned rather watery. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear that.” Her phone chimed, and Sitka gasped. “i forgot! ma sent me home to grab chips for the guacamole! they’re probably wondering where i am!”

[“I’M ALREADY BRINGING CHIPS,”] Gaster said, and then he slapped his forehead. [“DID I FORGET TO TELL PAPYRUS? GAH! I OVERLOOK ONE TINY DETAIL AND ALL MY PLANS ARE NEARLY RUINED!”]

“hey, it’s alright, uncle gaster,” Sitka said as she typed out a response to her text with blinding speed. “it could have been my dad instead of me. then you’d really be sunk.”

Gaster smiled down at his niece’s shrewd nature. [“MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY.”]

As he explained his other plans to her, Gaster thought that perhaps it was a good thing she’d caught him sneaking around her home. Sitka was already proving herself to be a great sounding board, spy, and accomplice all rolled into one. Although Gaster would have been loath to ask for it, he felt relieved to have some assistance in his intricate self-assigned quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I tried drawing again, because I loved imagining this scene](https://mathmusic8.tumblr.com/post/621428945703862272/dangit-this-was-way-cooler-in-my-head-again-d), buuuuut, yeah, I didn't magically gain any talent since last time haha. If anyone who can actually draw wants to make anything for this story, please feel free so long as you send me a link--I'd love to see it!


	5. An Interrogation

Sans was approaching Gaster's office with a silver bowl tucked under his arm when the door to said room opened and Gaster himself walked out with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “y’ goin’ somewhere, doc?” Sans asked, surprised.

Gaster appeared frozen stiff for half a second, but then it was like he turned on a “cool and casual” switch—his shoulders relaxed, his hands went into his pockets, and he smiled amicably.

 _how unusual,_ Sans thought.

[“HELLO, SANS! HOW ARE YOU THIS MORNING?”] Gaster asked with a perfect degree of calm. It wasn’t forced, but it was well practiced.

”’m fine, thanks,” Sans said. He knew a deflection when he saw one, and he decided to play dumb and buy himself some time to better analyze the situation. “here, ma wanted to make sure this got back to you.” He held out the silver bowl. His mother had also asked him to do some snooping and see if Gaster was behind a certain anonymous donation to her hospital bills, but Sans didn’t mention that. Not yet.

[“OH, I'D QUITE FORGOTTEN ABOUT MY BOWL!”] Gaster said with a short laugh. He took the bowl and walked it back into his office.

He wasn't heading home, then, or anywhere close enough to warrant a quick detour.

Sans followed Gaster into his office. “your guacamole didn't last much longer after you left. that stuff is _good_ , and if _i_ think something _healthy_ is good, then you know you've reached the level of the celestials.”

Gaster smiled. [“THANK YOU, SANS, THAT'S QUITE FLATTERING!”] He set the bowl down on his desk and turned to leave, only to find Sans blocking his way.

“you heading out, doc?” Sans asked again.

[“YES, ACTUALLY, I AM,”] Gaster said simply. He was usually very open about his plans, and Sans almost laughed at how badly he was trying to hide something.

Time to call the bluff.

“but ya don't wanna tell where, huh,” Sans asked, though it wasn't really a question. “’s not like you, doc.”

[“IT'S NOT LIKE _YOU_ TO STICK YOUR NASAL BONE INTO BUSINESS WHERE IT'S CLEARLY NOT WELCOME,"] Gaster huffed, equal parts sharp, teasing, and curious. ["WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO YOU, SANS?"]

 _well dang, the doc caught onto that real quick, didn't he?_ Sans thought. He decided it was time to lay his cards on the table and see where they fell. “well, yesterday when ma was checking out of the hospital, they told her someone paid her medical bills for her. and then some. like, 20,000 g ‘and then some’. so she asked me to keep an eyesocket on ya, since you're her prime suspect.”

Sans watched Gaster very carefully while he spoke, and he noticed that his eyesockets bulged and his jaw dropped a bit when Sans repeated the figures. Which was . . . actually a perfectly natural reaction to hearing something unexpected for the first time. There was no half second delay this time, either. Interesting.

[“20,000 G??”] Gaster blurted. [“THAT'S . . . THAT'S A LOT OF MONEY, SANS! DID YOU SAY THAT WAS _AFTER_ HER MEDICAL BILLS?”]

“yup.” Sans nodded. “but guessin’ by your expression . . . it wasn’t you, was it?”

[“TO BE HONEST, IT DID CROSS MY MIND,”] Gaster said, again without any slip-ups, pauses, or tells. [“BUT 20,000 G . . . . NO, THAT WASN'T ME.”]

Sans nodded. “cool, I’ll let ma know to look somewhere else. I’m honestly not sure if ma wants to thank them or wring their neck and make ‘em take it back. you know how she is.”

[“INDEED I DO,”] Gaster chuckled. [“THAT'S PROBABLY WHY THE DONATION WAS ANONYMOUS. THAT'S WHAT I WOULD DO, TOO.”]

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets, growing more and more confident by the minute that his uncle was telling the truth. “yeah, whoever it was, they know ma well enough to avoid her like the plague after doin’ her a service. that leaves a short list, tho, and you were on top.” Sans glanced at the messenger bag at Gaster's side. “you were acting funny, too, about heading out. still not telling me where you're goin’? you got me curious now.”

Gaster shuffled on his feet and wrung his hands for a moment. [“WELL, YOU SEE . . . GRILLBY INVITED ME OVER THIS MORNING, ALONE, AND I SUSPECT HE WANTS ME TO MEET SOMEONE.”]

One of Sans's eyebrow ridge raised. “oh? wait, like . . . a family member 'meet someone' or like a ‘blind date’ meet someone?”

[“BOTH, I SUPPOSE,”] Gaster sighed.

Sans started laughing. “heh heh heh, wait, wait, hee hee, is her name lavanya?”

Gaster's eye sockets instantly narrowed in suspicion. [“. . . YES. WHY? WHAT IS IT THAT YOU KNOW?”]

“oh, haha, just that grillby's been talking about getting you two together _forever_ , hahaha. like, seriously, the day i told him i found out you were my, haha, my boss, he, hahaha, he told me," Sans deepened his voice in a remarkably good imitation of Grillby's timbre. “‘oh, i know gaster. i’ve been trying to get him to meet my sister-in-law lavanya for years.’ hahahaha!”

Gaster huffed and stepped around Sans and out of his office, Sans trailing behind and nearly doubled over with laughter. [“YES, WELL, HE'S FINALLY GOING TO GET WHAT HE'S ALWAYS WANTED. IF IT BLOWS UP IN HIS FACE, HE WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT HIMSELF.”]

Sans just laughed harder.

[“GOODBYE, SANS,”] Gaster sighed, and walked away.

Gaster kept up a brisk pace all the way to the Riverperson's stop. Only once he was on the boat itself sailing toward Snowdin did he allow himself to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. [“ANGEL ABOVE, THAT WAS _CLOSE_ ,”] he muttered.

“Tra la la. A close shave does wonders for your toenails,” the Riverperson said.

[“I DON'T HAVE TOENAILS,”] Gaster said, though he hadn't turned on his Font Regulator yet. [“OR HAIR.”]

Sometimes is seemed like the Riverperson could understand Gaster's natural font, but mostly, it was vague at best.

“Tra la la."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: this Riverperson comment isn't meant to be used for any foreshadowing or profound advice whatsoever. Basically every single fic I've read with them in it uses them that way, and I just . . . didn’t feel like it :’D. Let them be weird and nonsensical sometimes. That’s like, 83% of what made them endearing to me in the game.


	6. A Meeting

Gaster threw open the door to Grillby’s establishment with a loud _BANG_ , causing all the current patrons to whirl around and stare at him, but he didn’t care about any of them—no, he marched straight up to the bartender himself and jabbed a finger at his face.

[“ **Kitchen. Now.** ”]

Grillby looked over Gaster’s shoulder at everyone staring slack-jawed at them, but Gaster didn’t budge, so Grillby shrugged to his customers and led Gaster to the kitchen.

Gaster waited for the heavy door to close firmly behind them, and then he resumed prodding Grillby in the chest with a boney finger to emphasize each word. [“ **I said 10,000 G, Grillby! No more, no less! And yet somehow, Sans came to me this morning talking about a donation that gave them a 20,000 G buffer, and that’s _after_ paying all their current bills!**”]

Setting his hands firmly on his hips, Gaster glowered at Grillby, who simply stood there, his flames popping more than usual but not enough to give Gaster any indication if the fire monster was angry or not. [“ **So,** ”] Gaster concluded, [“ **explain this to me!** ”]

Grillby tilted his head slightly, and when he spoke, his voice betrayed his amusement. “I talked it over with Magnella, and she was so excited by the idea that she went out and found a few more donors. We were careful not to mention you, old friend. I apologize for taking credit for your idea, but I thought you would prefer it that way. I would appreciate it if you still reimbursed your part, however—otherwise Magnella will have my head.”

It took a moment for all of that to sink in, but then Gaster scoffed and unshouldered his bag. [“ **And you would just grow it back, as usual. Lucky for you, I’m a skeleton of my word, so I’ll spare you from the inconvenience.** ”] Gaster set his bag on Grillby’s counter and started unloading ten packages of a thousand gold each.

“It’s not just an inconvenience, it’s bad for business,” Grillby said. “No one likes looking at a half-formed head outside of October.”

Once Gaster’s gold carriers were laid out on his counter, Grillby swept them all into his inventory to deposit in the bank later. The carriers were new, state-of-the-art shrinking magic that allowed an easy transfer of large funds without dealing with mountains of individual gold coins. Gold in any form had an interesting reaction with inventory magic—it was one of the reasons monsters had decided to use it as currency, since it somehow didn’t take up any inventory space no matter how much gold you were carrying. Thus after a mere moment, Grillby pulled ten empty carriers out of his inventory and returned them to Gaster.

While Gaster shoved the empty carriers into his bag, Grillby set his hip against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, and with a smirk in his voice, he said, “By the way, as far as first impressions go, I’m sure yours was quite . . . _unique_ for Lavanya just now.”

Bright pink spots appeared on Gaster’s cheek bones. [“ **She’s already here?** ”] he breathed.

“You knew I set you up and you still made a scene?” Grillby asked.

[“ **I had deduced your plan as soon as I hung up,** ”] Gaster scoffed. His cheeks were still pink, however, ruining any pretense of neutrality. [“ **I, ah, had simply hoped she would come in later.** ”]

If Grillby had the proper physiology, he would have been rolling his eyes. Instead, he adjusted his glasses with a _humph_. “Yes, well, how about you go and introduce yourself properly now that she’s more aware of what brand of crazy you bring to the table.”

Gaster’s face screwed up in a cross between mortification and irritation. [“ **You cad. This is all _your_ fault—if you hadn’t upped my donation, then I would have come in with a much better sense of propriety!**”]

“Sure, sure, blame the humble bartender,” Grillby said with that hissing laugh of his. “Are you ready to return, now that you’ve stopped blushing like a schoolboy in stripes?”

[“ **Let’s get this over with,** ”] Gaster groaned.

Grillby hissed another laugh with a shake of his head. Then he led Gaster back to the main room of the bar, opening the door for the skeleton. Gaster took a moment to adjust his messenger bag and stand up straight before walking into the bar with a calm, easy smile.

He spotted Lavanya immediately, and he nearly blushed again—she was sitting at the bar counter, and he hadn’t even seen her when he rushed in.

Unique first impression indeed. She had seen him in a fit of range and he had completely missed her, though now he had no idea how that was possible.

At least Grillby actually pulled his weight for once. As he resumed his station behind the counter, he beckoned Gaster forward and said, “Lavanya, this is my good friend Dr. Gaster. Gaster, this is my sister-in-law Lavanya.”

Lavanya was a purple flame, mostly, though Gaster saw some blue tones around the edges and pink hues closer to her Core, and long hair-like flames fell in fiery curls down her back. She wore a light blue sweater with green sleeves, and overall looked like she valued comfort over fads. Gaster could certainly relate to that.

Gaster smiled and held out his hand. [“ **Hello, Lavanya, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!** ”]

“The pleasure’s all mine, Dr. Gaster,” Lavanya said as she took his boney hand in a strong grip—her flame-covered skin was smooth and firm, much like a few rock monsters Gaster knew. Now that he was up close, he realized her eyes were bright periwinkle pink and slightly dark around the edges, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. She continued, “It’s not every day one meets the mastermind behind the Core.”

“It is around here,” Grillby quipped, and both Gaster and Lavanya sighed at him.

Lavanya groused, “Thank you, Grillby, but we’ll take it from here. Could I ask you to take a booth with me, Dr. Gaster?”

[“ **That sounds wonderful,** ”] Gaster smiled, though as soon as she turned to lead the way, Gaster glared daggers at Grillby. She didn’t need to know how often he eats out, even if it was at her brother-in-law’s restaurant. Grillby inclined his chin in place of a smirk, and Gaster rolled his eyelights and hurried after Lavanya.

They slid into an empty booth, and Lavanya immediately clasped her hands on the table in front of her. She sat tall, and Gaster unconsciously stiffened his already straight spine. His hands stayed off the table and in his lap as he slung one leg over his knee.

[“ **Well, Lavanya, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself,”]** Gaster invited. **[“Where are you from? Do you have a profession?** ”]

“Yes I do,” Lavanya nodded. For a fire monster, she was as cool as a cucumber. “I help maintain a social networking site called UnderNet. As for your first question, I currently live in New Home, but I was born in Hotland.”

Gaster wasn’t surprised by her origins—most fire monsters come from Hotland, after all—but he _was_ surprised by her professional work. [“ **I see. You said you maintain a social network—are you speaking in terms of business or programming? Or some other facet?** ”]

“Programming. I’ve been part of this project for years, and I’ve found it to be quite rewarding.” Lavanya started rubbing her fingers absently, as if recalling the many hours she’d spent slaving away at a keyboard. “And yourself?” she asked.

[“ **Well, I was born in New Home shortly after the Barrier was raised,** ”] Gaster began, and he provided a small pause. He found it easier to make a point to bring up his age sooner rather than later in conversations these days, since allowing people to try to guess was just an embarrassment for all parties.

When Lavanya realized Gaster was expecting a response, she said, “Is that so? I was born about a hundred years after the barrier.”

Oh. That would actually put them . . . nearly the same age. Gaster wasn’t sure why he’d expected her to be much younger—she was Magnella’s sister, after all.

Gaster nodded in acknowledgement and continued, [“ **I’ve only been the Royal Scientist for the last, oh, forty years or so, but I’ve been studying the sciences my entire life. I’m surprised we haven’t met before, given your work with technology.** ”]

“It’s still a new field,” Lavanya said. She was rubbing her hands together now, and Gaster wondered if it was a nervous tic. He knew he was an incurable tapper, which was why he’d kept his hands off the table—no one cared if he was tapping his leg.

[“ **Even so, it sounds like you know a thing or two about computers, and that means you probably know more than most of my staff put together. I doubt you came here looking for a job, but could I make you an offer?** ”] Gaster asked.

Lavanya was straight up wringing her hands together now. “While that is . . . _quite_ flattering! I’m actually very happy with my current position,” she said with a note of shocked surprise in her voice.

Oh dear, he’d gotten her all flustered. Who wouldn’t be, getting a job offer on a blind date? Gaster could have slapped himself.

[“ **Of course, my dear. I’m very glad to hear that you are enjoying your current position, and I apologize if I came off . . . odd. I’m afraid I’ve always got work on the brain, if you know what I mean.** ”]

“Of course,” Lavanya said softly. “Please, think nothing of it. It was . . . quite flattering.” The last end of her sentence came out as a near whisper, and her hands were now clasped tightly—anxiously—together.

Well, there was no resurrecting that conversation, so Gaster changed the subject. [“ **Would you like to order anything**?”]

“That does sound nice.”

Thank the Angel above. Gaster flagged Grillby over and ordered his usual plate of fries while Lavanya asked for one of the more upscale burgers on the menu. After Grillby left to cook their food, Lavanya caught Gaster’s eye.

“I’m surprised you’re only getting fries. Will that be enough?” she asked.

Gaster said, [“ **Yes, of course. I will probably take another short break to have lunch with my nephew this afternoon.** ”]

Something lit up in Lavanya’s face, and she dropped a few sparks. “I see. Are you close to your nephew?”

[“ **I would say so, yes,** ”] Gaster said. He smiled as he thought back to his first real meeting with Sans, back when he was first learning blue magic. [“ **Although I admit, I didn’t know he was my nephew when I met him.** ”]

Lavanya’s periwinkle eyes widened in surprised. “That sounds like quite the story.”

[“ **It is, but it is a tad long,** ”] Gaster admitted.

“I don’t mind,” Lavanya said. There was a smile in her voice, and she was back to massaging her fingers, so he took this to mean she was more relaxed now than before.

So Gaster explained how he had become estranged from his family (confessing that he was a rather anti-social monster), and through pure coincidence had been reunited with Frank and his family. He did his best to keep the story brief, knowing he had a tendency to get long winded, but he was still talking after their food had arrived.

True to her word, Lavanya didn’t seem to mind. She took a few bites of her burger while Gaster finished up, and then she surprised him by asking about each of Frank’s children. By the time he had described the three in detail, she was halfway finished with her meal and he hadn’t even started his own, so Gaster turned the conversation back to her.

[“ **How about yourself? Are you close to your family?** ”] he asked.

“Oh, yes!” Lavanya said, and a shower of tiny sparks dropped like glitter from her long, flowing hair. “Magnella and Grillby have several children and grandchildren, as I’m sure you’re aware, and I have several other siblings who also have large families. I do my best to keep up with them.”

It only took an occasional question from Gaster to keep her talking about her many, many nieces and nephews, all of whom she loved dearly. She managed to ask enough questions herself to still finish her meal before Gaster did. Once he had finished up, he wiped his hands on a napkin and asked, [“ **Could I interest you in some dessert?** ”]

Lavanya checked her wristwatch and said, “Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement. Before I go, could I . . . perhaps, exchange phone numbers with you?”

The hesitation was brief, but Gaster noticed it. Perhaps she was reconsidering his job offer? He could _really_ use more programmers on his team. [“ **That would be wonderful!** ”] They shared their contact information, and then they stood up.

Lavanya offered her hand. “It was wonderful to meet you, Dr. Gaster,” she said with a pleasant smile in her voice.

Gaster shook her hand warmly. [“ **Likewise, Lavanya. If you’re ever in need of a change of pace from your current job, do let me know!** ”]

Something in her posture stiffened, and she gave a swift “Goodbye,” and as she hurried out the door, Gaster realized he’d just done it again.

Curse his foolish workaholic brain!

Gaster barely refrained from groaning out loud—there were still other patrons around, after all—and he dragged himself miserably to the bar counter, where Grillby was polishing a glass.

As soon as Gaster sat on the barstool, Grillby set aside his glass, folded his arms on top of the counter, and leaned in close to his old friend.

“. . . did I just hear you offer her a job?”

This time, Gaster did groan, and then he sighed heavily. [“ **. . . . yes.** ”]

“You do realize that now she thinks you only see her as a potential employee?” Grillby continued.

[“ **Yes, Grillby, I am _well_ aware of my now-nonexistent dating skills!**”] Gaster hissed. [“ **It has _been a while_ since my last one _,_ alright?**”]

Something about what Gaster said caused Grillby to pop and drop a few happy sparks. “So . . . you considered this a date?”

[“ **It would have been, if I hadn’t gone around sticking my foot in my mouth! Twice!!** ”] Gaster huffed. He set his skull in his hands and rubbed his temples to stay a looming migraine. He _had_ enjoyed himself—he even considered the conversation after that first mistake a wonderful recovery—but he then he’d gone and ruined the whole thing all over again.

Grillby patted Gaster on the head in a small, patronizing gesture, a distinct smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”

Gaster looked up at him in horror. [“ **. . . . ‘Next time’?!** ”]

More happy sparks dropped from Grillby’s head and hands as the fire monster nodded. “Yes, Gaster. Next time.”

Half an hour later, Gaster walked back into the lab with a purposeful stride. Of course, Sans appeared in the hallway just before his office, and that frozen smile of his had never looked more real.

“so? how’d it go?” Sans asked

Gaster pulled his Font Regulator off his jacket lapel and snapped, [“I ENTIRELY FORGOT IT WAS A DATE AND OFFERED HER A JOB AND SHE SAID NO, AND WHEN WE EXCHANGED NUMBERS I GAVE HER A STANDING OFFER—HOW DO YOU _THINK_ IT WENT?!”] He entered his office and slammed the door behind him. He tossed his Font Regulator on his desk, threw his messenger bag to the floor, and dropped into his office chair. He spent a few minutes glaring at his Font Regulator as if it were the cause of all his problems.

What Gaster didn’t see was Sans’s surprised but no-less genuine smile as he muttered to himself, “wow doc, must’ve been some girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how much to say about Lavanya, but suffice to say, she actually was not planning on going on a date that day, and Grillby is a sneaky little sneak sneaker. :D
> 
> Anyway, [ here's a sketch of how I picture Lavanya](https://mathmusic8.tumblr.com/post/621920311385915392/this-is-lavanya-one-of-my-ocs-for-my-fic-dr) if anyone's interested!


	7. A Lightbulb

Sammy was resting on the couch, her broken leg propped up by the footrest, when she finished reading her book. Frank sat beside her with one arm across her shoulders, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. It had been less than 24 hours since Sammy had gotten home, and she was already going stir crazy, being stuck on the couch while her family doted on her. She just wanted to _do_ something. There was a house to run, food to make, clothes to wash . . . .

An anonymous donor to hunt down.

A spark of an idea hit her, and Sammy eagerly set her book aside and picked up her phone. There weren’t many people she could call—she usually had Sitka to translate for her, but Sitka was still at school—but there was a short list of family members who knew her font well enough to visit.

Each and every one of them were also on her suspect list.

Gaster was the only name she had crossed out so far, so there was plenty of work left to be done.

She started with her oldest brother, the one who was worst at hiding things. He didn’t pick up, so next she tried his wife, and they visited for about half an hour before Sammy brought up the donation. Her sister-in-law sounded genuinely blown away by the mysterious stranger’s generosity, and Sammy sighed.

Frank was glancing at her every now and again, particularly when Sammy would ask a probing question. Seems like they were going to talk when she was finished.

Of course, her sister-in-law being who she was, it took another thirty minutes to say goodbye, but after she finally hung up, Sammy picked up her notepad and confidently crossed her brother’s name off her list.

She reached for her phone, which she had balanced on her knee to pick up the notepad, but Frank snatched it away. He said, “DARLING, THIS NEEDS TO STOP.”

[“no!”] Sammy tried reaching for her phone, but her husband’s long arms easily held it out of reach. [“i need to—!”]

“NO, YOU DON’T. YOU CAN ACCEPT THE FACT THAT SOMEONE GAVE YOU A GIFT WITHOUT EXPECTING ANY KIND OF REPAYMENT,” Frank said, an edge already in his voice. This was not the first time in their 25 years of marriage that they had had this conversation, and they both knew it would not be their last.

[“it was close to 30,000 g, frank! that’s _too much_!! for _any_ monster! i’m not going to sit here and smile while i know that some poor fool went into debt—”]

“SAMMY, YOU’RE MAKING ALL THESE ASSUMPTIONS—”

[“what if it was a mistake? what if some loan agency is trying to make money and ruins a monster’s life over this? they could have been pressured into it, they could’ve done the math wrong, they could’ve—”]

While Sammy rambled on, Frank sighed, tossed Sammy’s phone away further down the couch, and embraced her with both arms. He nuzzled her skull until she fell quiet and leaned into his touch.

Neither of them continued their arguments. So many words had already been said over the years that there was no need to. Both of them were angry, neither of them could fully understand why the other felt the way they did. So they dropped it.

After a few more minutes of nuzzling, Sammy pulled away, and Frank went back to his phone, one arm still securely around his wife.

She loved him. Oh, she loved him more than she could have even dreamed of back when they first met. But they still had disagreements, and cuddling wasn’t going to fix them.

Sammy sighed. [“can you give me my phone back now?”]

“NOPE.” Frank looked up from his phone and saw Sammy’s bookmark on top of the novel she had set aside earlier. “CAN I GET YOU ANOTHER BOOK? OR MAYBE A BITE TO EAT?”

A glance at the clock revealed that it was an acceptable time for lunch. Sammy nodded. [“food would be nice.”]

Frank eagerly listed some chain food restaurants, each suggestion greasier than the last, but Sammy smacked his hand. [“you know i make better food than any of them. get me in that wheelchair and i’ll make pizza.”]

“YES, DARLING,” Frank grinned cheekily. He’d probably provoked her on purpose by mentioning all those greasy options, but she didn’t mind—it would be good to get off the couch.

With Frank’s help, Sammy soon had two pizzas ready for the oven. She was watching when Frank opened the over door to slide the first one in, and her perpetually empty eyesockets blew wide in absolute shock and fury.

Someone had replaced her oven light.

She _knew_ she had used the oven the day that she broke her leg, and she would have noticed if he had fixed it since she got home. It had to have been during her stay at the hospital.

And hadn’t told her.

Frank finished sliding the pizza in, closed the oven door, and set the timer, bushing his hands off after a job well done, but when he turned around, he froze. Sammy’s eye sockets were always dark, but they weren’t always this big, and her malleable smile wasn’t always stretched so dangerously wide.

[“honey,”] Sammy said, her voice a low growl, [“weren’t we going to work on our budget before we fixed any more appliances?”]

“YYYYES??” Frank said. He looked a little confused but mostly scared out of his mind.

It wasn’t Frank.

[“papyrus!!”] Sammy shouted, as much as her font would allow.

Thankfully, her kids were well attuned to her voice, and Papyrus appeared in moments, pencil and paper in hand. “YES, MOTHER? I’M STILL WORKING ON THE BOOK REPORT LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO, BUT YOU CAN READ WHAT I HAVE IF YOU’D LIKE!”

Sammy dexterously turned her chair around—it wasn’t her first time being stuck in a wheelchair, what with her brittle bones—and eyed her son carefully. [“did you replace the oven light while i was in the hospital?”]

She heard Frank said a little “OH” behind her.

“NOPE! BUT THAT WOULD’VE BEEN AN EXCELLENT IDEA, EVEN IF YOU HATE SURPRISES! BUT I THINK SITKA MIGHT HAVE! WHY ELSE WOULD SHE HAVE TAKEN SO LONG TO FIND THE CHIPS FOR UNCLE GASTER’S SCRUMPTIOUS GUACAMOLE?”

Bless that boy and his sharp attention to detail. [“thank you, papyrus. lunch will be ready soon.”]

“OKAY!” Papyrus said. He darted back to his room to put his paper and pencil away.

Sammy was going to have _words_ for her daughter when she got home.

As a matter of fact, it was about time to see her teleport home for lunch. The child had a knack for arriving as soon as a meal was ready, and this time was no exception—exactly two minutes after the first pizza come out of the oven, she appeared in the designated “teleport zone” by the front door.

Sammy was waiting for her.

“hey ma, how ya doin’?” Sitka asked easily, not even looking up. She kicked her shoes off and dropped her backpack down on the couch, but when she turned to Sammy, her casual attitude immediately evaporated. Sitka’s voice pitched higher in concern. “oh. uhhh, ma? why you givin’ me your scary face?”

[“you didn’t tell me you replaced the oven light,”] Sammy said. Her voice was a low purr that sent shivers down Sitka’s spine.

This.

This was why everyone was terrified of helping Sammy in any way, shape or form.

“ma, i haven’t touched the oven since we made bread, like, a week ago,” Sitka said.

[“then why did you take so long with the chips?”]

Sitka raised her hands in a placating gesture. “i toldja, i got caught up talking to uncle gaster to see how much guacamole he was bringing.”

[“oh. that’s right.”] Sammy deflated a bit, her empty eye sockets finally returning to their original size and smile dropping to a frustrated frown. [“then who could it be?”]

It was difficult for Sitka to understand why it mattered so much. She knew her mother’s parents had gotten themselves into money trouble several times while Sammy was growing up, but this was a _lightbulb_ for crying out loud! A single, barely glowing stupid lightbulb.

That was the real reason Sitka had decided to help Uncle Gaster. Sammy and Frank had argued long and loud about their finances, particularly when gifts of any kind were involved, and Sitka knew they wouldn’t be resolving this on their own. But maybe, just maybe, if Sammy received enough gifts without any hope of tracking down her benefactors—

 _Maybe_ , she could learn to accept a gift graciously and, as Frank always said, pay it forward.


	8. A Wink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is broken-dryer-hatred in this fic. Please do not actively destroy your dryer, even if it's basically already broken.

Sitka received word that Uncle Gaster was ready for the next stage of their plan, and she couldn’t be more excited. She had two jobs: stay inconspicuous, and break the dryer.

Accomplishing both was turning out to be near impossible for one reason, and one reason alone.

Papyrus.

Not only did he religiously repair any damage Sitka could inflict, but he called her out on it every time.

“NOW WHERE DID I PLACE THOSE SCREWS? OH, THEY MUST BE PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK! AGAIN!! NO MATTER, FOR I ALWAYS WIN!!”

“SITKA! YOU FORGOT TO CLEAN THE DRYER LINT! _AGAIN_!! WHAT A MESS!! HOW LONG MANY BATCHES DID YOU _DO_? REALLY, SISTER, YOU COULD HAVE CAUSED A FIRE!”

“SITKA!! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER THAN TO STEP ALL OVER THE DRYER DUCTS! JUST BECAUSE YOU DISLIKE THE DRYER AND THEY HAPPEN TO BE ON THE FLOOR WHILE I MAKE REPAIRS DOES NOT MEAN THEY DESERVE SUCH ABUSE!!”

At least Sitka managed to keep Papyrus from berating her in front of their parents, but it was a close thing a couple times.

And finally, when Papyrus came back from shopping with their mother and immediately checked the dryer just two days after Sitka started her secret rampage, she knew she was busted.

Sure enough, Papyrus quickly discovered that there was a new grinding sound when he turned the barrel, and he marched straight to his sister’s room.

“SITKA? WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK THE DRYER? DON’T YOU KNOW THAT WOULD MAKE MOTHER AND FATHER VERY UNHAPPY?”

There was nothing else for it.

Sitka pulled him into her room, poked her head out into the hallway and discerned that their mother was in the kitchen, and then she closed the door.

Twenty minutes later, Gaster got a phone call.

[“ **Hello?** ”] he answered, automatically putting his phone on speaker and set it beside his Font Regulator on his desk.

 _“i had to tell papyrus,”_ Sitka said.

Gaster gasped a little and scrambled to turn his phone off speaker—he was just in his office, but Sans had a terrible habit of popping in and out whenever he had a question.

 _“he was onto me faster than a temmie on temmie flakes,”_ Sitka continued, _“but i think it’ll be better this way.”_

[“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY SURE HE CAN KEEP IT A SECRET?”] Gaster asked.

Sitka had a smile in her voice as she said, _“oh yeah, he’s good at secrets. here, why don’t you talk to him?”_

[“ALRIGHT.”]

In the brief moment while Sitka was handing her phone over, Gaster took a few deep breaths to calm his racing soul. It wasn’t _truly_ that big of a deal, but even the shadow of a thought that Sammy might find out about what he was doing sent shivers up his spine. The woman could hold grudges for _decades_ , or so he’d been told. He respected her, both as his nephew’s wife and as an intellectual peer—higher education was unfortunately rare in the Underground. To lose her friendship would truly be a tragedy.

Papyrus came on the phone and said, _“HELLO UNCLE GASTER! I UNDERSTAND YOUR TREPIDATIONS IN TRYING TO TREAT OUR MOTHER TO TRAPS OF KINDNESS WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE, BUT WORRY NO LONGER! WITH MY HELP, YOUR TRAPS WILL BE SPRUNG WITHOUT A HITCH! NYEH HEH HEH!! AND MY NON-EXISTENT LIPS ARE SEALED SO TIGHT, NOT EVEN FATHER’S SKELETON KEYS COULD OPEN THEM!”_

Gaster sighed in relief. [“I AM GLAD TO HAVE YOU ON BOARD, MY BOY. HOW MUCH HAS SITKA TOLD YOU OF OUR PLAN?”]

 _“QUITE A LOT, ACTUALLY! AND I!! HAVE A RECOMMENDATION!!!”_ Papyrus said.

Gaster nearly laughed out loud at the boy’s excitement, but he took a moment to compose himself. [“I’D LOVE TO HEAR IT.”]

As Papyrus explained his idea, Gaster realized that Sitka was right—the boy would make a wonderful addition to their team.

The next day was Friday, so Frank’s entire family was together as they went dryer shopping. Frank led the expedition towards the appliance store district, and Sans was walking beside him with his hands in his pockets, his little sister hanging off his arm and babbling away about her school adventures. Sitka missed having her oldest brother around, that much was clear. Papyrus was pushing his mother’s wheelchair, and he wore a neutral grin that was impossible to read. Frank tried again to probe at his middle child, but he had little hope of uncovering anything new. “I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU MANAGED TO SHRED THE DRYER DUCT. YOU’RE USUALLY SO CAREFUL.”

“YES, I AM ONE OF THE MOST METICULOUS MECHANICS THAT I KNOW! BUT UNFORTUNATE EVENTS STILL HAPPEN, EVEN TO METICULOUS UPSTANDING PEOPLE SUCH AS MYSELF!” Papyrus said. His tone, his body language, his face—everything was so neutrally cheerful that the boy was completely indecipherable.

“I SUPPOSE THAT’S TRUE,” Frank sighed.

[“it’s alright, darling, the dryer needed replaced sooner or later,”] Sammy said. She was also terribly cheerful to have an opportunity to prove that their family was capable of making their own way, though who she was trying to prove that to was a complete mystery.

Still, a new dryer would be nice.

“yeah, i’m surprised it lasted as long as it did, pops,” Sans said. “you were talking about replacing that thing back before i moved out, like, a year ago.”

“WE WERE GOING TO, BUT THEN SITKA KNOCKED HER TOOTH OUT,” Frank said.

Sitka groaned at the reminder. “oh yeah, that was _awful._ i had to take those nasty regrowth pills for _months_! _and_ i had a lisp!”

Sans teased, “yeah, it was like you were three all over again, always whining and crying—”

“it _hurt_!”

“—complaining about your food, taking naps every day— _oof_! hey!”

Sans was cut off by his sister turning his soul blue, which dragged him down to his hands and knees on the cobblestone street.

[“sitka be _careful_! you could’ve hurt him!”] Sammy scolded

With a huff, Sitka let go of her magic and Sans quickly stood up and brushed his knees off. “don’t worry about it, ma, i’m alright. she just caught me off guard.” His mother’s outburst had stung, but Sans did his best to shrug it off. It was just . . . .

He wasn’t a kid anymore.

It was one of the many reasons Sans enjoyed living on his own—not only was he no longer a financial burden to his family, but for the most part, people didn’t know how brittle his bones were (or, like Gaster, didn’t care) and Sans was finally able to truly live his life to the fullest. Perhaps his mother’s aversion to receiving service stemmed from a similar place. She had the same bone condition as him, after all, and the fact that she was currently in a wheelchair weighed heavily on him. As much as Sans hated being stuck like that, he knew that she hated it worse.

Dryer hunting was a good distraction for her, Sans decided, even if it did put a dent in their delicate finances.

“well, where we headed first?” he asked.

Frank’s eyesockets crinkled in a smile as he answered, “TROT’S BOTS! THEY HAVE A GOOD CLEARANCE SECTION!”

Although they knew he was joking—or at least fervently _hoped_ he was joking—the three children each held back groans with varying degrees of success.

Sitka was the loudest. “that place smells like dust and dead mice.”

“isn’t that the place you got the fridge with cockroaches in it?” Sans muttered.

Papyrus simply took matters into his own hands. “OH LOOK! THERE’S WINKEY-FACE! IT HAS FREE POPCORN!” He turned Sammy’s wheelchair sharply to the left and bolted into the store.

Sammy clutched her armrests for dear life. [“wait, no, papyrus this place is too expens—eeep! papyrus, slow down!! papyrus!!!”]

Frank couldn’t help but laugh and try to catch up. “PAPYRUS, PLEASE STOP TRAUMATIZING YOUR MOTHER. COME ON, YOU KNOW I WAS JOKING!”

“YES, AND IT WAS A TERRIBLE JOKE! SO I’M TURNING THE CONVERSATION AROUND!” Papyrus said over his shoulder. He expertly navigated the wheelchair through several junctures and display appliances, though Sammy shrieked at every sharp corner. She needn’t have worried—Papyrus had done _much_ more intense obstacle courses with his siblings when they were in wheelchairs, but they’d promised each other never to talk about such things, so Papyrus just grinned as only a skeleton can and the eventually slid to a stop neatly in front of the popcorn machine.

“WE’LL TAKE THREE, PLEASE!” Papyrus told the attendant. He knew his parents wouldn’t want any, but his siblings would.

“That was some impressive rolling! ; )” the giant seahorse-like monster winked. “Three popcorns coming right up! ; )”

The rest of the family came along shortly, and all of them were laughing except for Sammy, who tried to scold them all, but she quickly ended up laughing too.

It was so good to see her family happy and healthy.

Even if she’d thought she’d break her neck just a minute ago.

The seahorse monster quickly divvyed up the popcorn in three paper cones. “Don’t forget to check your cones for our super special one-time-only free giveaway sale! ; )” He pointed to the sign on the machine, which had a picture of a winking star saying _You’re a winner!_

Sitka, being an outgoing child, of course winked back at the seahorse, but if Sammy had eyelights, she would have rolled them. _Nothing_ was free—it was probably just some publicity campaign. Goodness knows the Winkey-Face company could afford a proper advertising specialist.

“Can I help you folks find anything? ; )” the seahorse asked.

[“we’re just window shopping today,”] Sammy said.

The seahorse’s smile tightened and his winking turned uncomfortable. “Uh, sorry, what was that? ; )”

“THANK YOU, BUT WE’RE JUST BROWSING TODAY!” Frank said quickly, and he took over Sammy’s wheelchair and pushed her towards the dryer section.

It took a moment for Sammy to shake herself out of her shock. She’d been having so much fun without even realizing it that she’d actually truly forgotten that most monsters couldn’t understand her—she hadn't had a slip-up like that in years. Tears pricked at her empty sockets, but Sammy dashed them away. Now was not the time to get emotional. Now was the time to window shop and find dryer models that had good enough quality that they might be found in lower-class recycle shops where they could actually afford them.

Frank parked her front of a dryer and put his large, boney hands on her shoulders, rubbing them tenderly. “IT’S ALRIGHT, DARLING. WE CAN TAKE A MOMENT, IF YOU NEED TO.”

The children seemed to be entertaining themselves by the popcorn machine, so Sammy gave a tiny nod.

Frank knelt at her side and held her hands in his while she let a few tears fall. It wasn’t often anymore that she managed to get shaken up like this, but when it did happen, it was difficult to stop the frustration pent up over the years. Every single time they had started saving for a Font Regulator, someone had broken a bone, or an appliance finally broke down, or Frank hit a dry spell in his work, or sometimes all three at once. They’d gone to family for help once or twice, back when the children were young, but for the most part, they’d managed to get by, and they would keep getting by. They wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills for a good long while now, thanks to the anonymous donor, and so their latest bundle of savings would buy them a decent dryer, and then they’d start over again.

But who knows? Maybe by this time next month, Sammy could be walking, talking to strangers, and happy as a clam. To go shopping by herself—go _anywhere_ by herself—it wasn’t just a dream of hers. It was her future, she was certain of it.

The children were starting to come back. Sammy wiped her eye sockets one last time and patted her husband’s arm. [“thank you, darling, i’m alright now.”]

Frank nodded and resumed his position behind her chair with his hands on her shoulders, leaning over her to look at the dryer in front of them. “LOOK AT ALL THOSE SETTINGS! DO YOU THINK ‘WRINKLE RELEASE’ WOULD WORK ON ME?”

Sammy giggled and swatted at his hand. [“just because you’re getting old and stale doesn’t mean you have _wrinkles_ , darling, you’re a _skeleton_ for crying out loud!”]

“I’D LIKE ‘AIR FLUFF’ MYSELF!” Papyrus said, joining the conversation without missing a beat. “THEN MY HAIR WOULD FINALLY BE BIG AND SOFT!”

The family laughed and continued joking around with dryer settings and features, the children steadily munching away at their popcorn.

They’d gotten to the next isle when Sans, who had been leading the group, stopped abruptly, nearly causing Frank to run him over with the wheelchair. “WHOA! WATCH OUT THERE, SON, OR YOU’LL BE ROADKILL ONE OF THESE DAYS!”

[“frank,”] Sammy gasped, turning to give his hand a slap.

Usually one to laugh at every joke Frank make, Sans was instead rather intently focused on his popcorn cone. “uh, ma? you’re not gonna like this, but, uh . . . .”

He tipped his cone towards her, and near the bottom she saw a little sticker with a ridiculous winking star on it with the words _You’re a winner!_

Frank’s rare and elusive googly eyes popped out, and Sammy?

Sammy screamed.

Behind her, Sitka discretely gave Papyrus a fist bump, and together, they turned to the seahorse and winked.

The seahorse, naturally, winked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Papyrus, but he's really hard for me to write, sorry guys haha. I wish I knew enough puns to give him one every other sentence, but I only know the few that the fandom has beaten to death, and, well, Papyrus has standards. I don’t think he’d like reusing old material.
> 
> If anyone’s wondering what Gaster’s original plan was, it involved Sitka texting him as soon as the family got to a store and then Gaster making a quick phone call to the owner. It would’ve been difficult to get the timing just right, but he decided that if worst came to worst, he could anonymously pay their bill again, though that would greatly increase his risk of discovery. When Papyrus came on board, he just asked Gaster which store he would prefer they went to, and told him that he would get the family there. That allowed Gaster to contact the management ahead of time and work out a more detailed plan that for sure kept him anonymous.
> 
> There were so many moments from this chapter I wish I could draw....the collage of Papyrus catching Sitka breaking the dryer...Papyrus zooming around the store with Sammy in the wheelchair...Sammy and Frank taking a moment...Frank’s googly eyes and Sammy’s angry face...the winks....
> 
> Someday.


	9. A Message

“...and then lo and behold, i got a sticker in my cup,” Sans said. “i wish you could’ve seen it, doc. pop’s googly eyes came out, and ma looked ready to murder someone. it was the best.”

Sans and Gaster were sitting at the breakroom table, enjoying a plate of fries from Grillby’s that Sans had picked up for them. Gaster enjoyed hearing his nephew’s account of his family’s moment of fame, which was all over social media by now. Gaster had gotten an account set up (with Sans’s help) just a few days earlier, and he was amused by how quickly their story spread. It made his job much easier since he didn’t have to pretend to be surprised.

[“I DO WISH I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE,”] Gaster said. He delicately picked out a clean French fry amid the mess of ketchup Sans had drizzled over the pile and munched on it.

Sans nodded. “pops was so happy, he started to cry a little, and he _never_ cries. i asked him about it later, and you know what he said?” He picked up a couple of dripping fries and phased them through his teeth. His hands were now a mess, but he’d wash up later.

[“WHAT DID HE SAY?”] Gaster asked.

“he said they might finally be able to buy ma a font regulator in a month or so, so long as nothing else goes wrong and he keeps finding work.” Sans’s eyes crinkled and he looked at Gaster with wide, happy eyelights. “they’ve been trying to save up for one of those things for _years,_ doc. something’s always come up—i mean, they’ve already been bailed out twice in what, two weeks? a week and a half?” Sans shook his head. “they _need_ this, doc. they haven’t _ever_ had a lucky break and they _deserve_ one.”

[“I TRIED TO BRING UP A FONT REGULATOR TO SAMMY RECENTLY,”] Gaster admitted.

Sans was already shaking his head. “you know my ma, doc. she won’t take it.”

[“YES, THAT WAS MY CONCLUSION AS WELL,”] Gaster said with a sigh. [“PERHAPS IT’S BETTER THIS WAY. SHE’LL BE ABLE TO TAKE PRIDE IN IT IF SHE CAN BUY IT HERSELF.”]

“yeah, that’s true,” Sans said. He ate a few more fries and then started laughing. “heh heh heh, you should’ve seen sitka when they were taking out the old dryer. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her so . . . _violent._ in a happy way, but still, heh heh. when pops gave her the go-ahead, she _destroyed_ that hunk of junk.”

[“I COULD SEE HER DOING THAT,”] Gaster smiled.

After a few more bites of fries, Sans gave Gaster a wink and said, “grillby said lavanya asks about you.”

[“THERE YOU GO AGAIN, STICKING YOUR NASAL BONE WHERE IT DOESN’T BELONG,”] Gaster said, shaking his finger at Sans.

“’s not like i _asked_ , grillby just tells me things!” Sans retorted.

Gaster stuck his chin out and smiled haughtily. [“WELL, IT JUST SO HAPPENS THAT YOU’RE BEHIND THE TIMES. I’VE ALREADY TALKED TO LAVANYA.”]

Sans’s eyelights shrank in surprise, then grew wide in excitement. “you did? when? what did she say?”

Gaster could’ve teased Sans about minding his own business, but he had to admit, he was eager to talk to someone—someone who _wasn’t_ directly related to the girl ( _cough_ Grillby _cough_ ). [“SHE FOUND MY SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNT TODAY AND ASKED ME IF I’M GOING TO GRILLBY AND MAGNELLA’S ANNIVERSARY PARTY NEXT WEEK. I TOLD HER THAT I AM, AND SHE SAID SHE WOULD SEE ME THERE— _WITH_ AN EXCLAMATION POINT,”] Gaster bragged.

“doc, texting is _not_ talking,” Sans said, though his eyelights were still large and bright, “but still, that’s awesome! i hope it works out for ya!”

[“YES, WELL, WE’LL SEE,”] Gaster said. He checked his watch and stood up. [“ALRIGHT, I BETTER GET BACK TO WORK. CAN I TRUST YOU TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF?”]

Sans waggled his ketchup and salt-covered phalanges with a smirk in his eyes. “what? you _don’t_ want ketchup stains on all my reports?”

[“AT LEAST THEN I CAN TELL WHICH ONES I NEED TO SEND BACK FOR TYPOS, I SUPPOSE,”] Gaster said.

“heh heh heh, nah, i got this, doc. see ya after a while,” Sans said. He waved Gaster out the door, and Gaster hurried back to his office.

He didn’t actually have anything pressing to do—his computer was still running some simulations that would probably take another half an hour—but he wanted to work on the next item on his list. Papyrus had dubbed it their List of Indetectable Secret Service Traps, or LISST.

Honestly, the boy must’ve been sent from the Angel above.

Any and all home repairs were now as easy to explain as Papyrus saying, “OH, I DID THAT!” and no one gave it a second thought. It wasn’t even a lie—the young skeleton was more than happy to follow Gaster’s instructions and fix things as they came up. And if Gaster happened to supply some tools and supplies? No one was the wiser.

Today’s LISST item was of a different nature. Gaster opened his social media app on his phone and logged into his second account, which he’d named PuzzleMaster01. His entire feed was purely dedicated to hyping up puzzles as an intricate part of monster society, and drawing awareness to the fact that the rising generation didn’t have the same love for puzzles as their ancestors.

In short, with some help of a few influential monsters, Gaster was helping to create a fad.

Puzzles would be pushed in schools, business, and recreational areas. Parks, restaurants, daycares, hotels, shops, homes—they were all being transformed into labyrinths of hidden keys, pressure switches, and patterns. It wouldn’t take long before people to start locking themselves out—and maybe in—of places they needed to get to, and there was only one monster in the Underground who crazy enough to have specialized solely in locked doors.

Frank.

If the fad found traction, Frank’s spotty employment would turn into a proper full-time position. The family would live comfortably for the rest of his career, and then Gaster would finally be able to sleep peacefully, knowing he had done a good thing.

That was the hope.

It was still in the early stages, but the movement showed promise, and Gaster continued to nurture it with continuous daily posts, citing historic puzzles, research on how puzzles benefit children and monster intelligence, and popular business endorsements. It took more work than he’d expected.

While Gaster was writing up a new puzzle post, his personal account got a new message from BunnyEars789.

_Hi Gaster, it’s Cotton! How’ve you been?_

Cotton was an old acquaintance of his from before his time as a Royal Scientist. She’d been one of his first younger friends, and he remembered her as a fun, lighthearted pediatrics student while he was acquiring yet another doctorate.

What could it hurt?

_Hello Cotton! I’m doing well, thank you! How about yourself?_

She was quick to respond, and they carried on the usual pleasantries and catching up while he worked on his post for his other account. Cotton had switched from pediatrics to primary education— _an elementary school teacher, in other words,_ she’d clarified, as if he wouldn’t know. She invited him to get lunch with her sometime, and Gaster agreed, though he quickly suggested a shop in New Home. He knew Cotton lived in Snowdin, and there was no force in the Underground that could drag Gaster back to Grillby’s with a date.

He startled as the thought even occurred to him—was this a _date_? Surely not— _surely_ this would just be a quick meeting between two old friends wanting to catch up after a few decades. For Angel’s sake, for all he knew, she could be _married_!

Though a quick look at her social media profile confirmed that she wasn’t.

But it didn’t matter! Lavanya had sounded excited to see Gaster again, and he was honestly looking forward to seeing her, too—she’d been so easy to talk to, after the first bit, and it may just be Grillby’s constant prodding, but they did seem to have a lot in common. Cotton was just an old friend who wanted to have lunch.

Right?


	10. A Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July! I had fun with this chapter haha.

Sans was surprised when Gaster rushed to the breakroom as soon as he got back from his lunch date. After that last date, Sans was prepared to give Gaster all the space he needed, but now his uncle’s countenance seemed to have the polar opposite—he had a big, stupid grin on his face and practically bounced into the room.

“whoa. i’m guessing it went well?” Sans laughed.

Gaster pulled his Font Regulator off his jacket and took a seat at the table across from Sans. [“I’D FORGOTTEN HOW CHARMING COTTON CAN BE! SHE’S QUITE YOUNG, OF COURSE, BUT SHE DOESN’T SEEM TO MIND THAT I’M OLDER THAN HER—BEING AROUND HER MAKES _ME_ FEEL YOUNG, TOO!”]

Sans laughed. “gee, doc, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this excited before! there’s gonna be a second date, right?”

[“YES, THIS SAME TIME NEXT WEEK! SHE WOULD HAVE LIKED TO COME TO GRILLBY’S ANNIVERSARY PARTY, BUT SHE’S ALREADY GOT PLANS WITH ANOTHER YOUNG MAN—OH, DON’T ACT SO SURPRISED, SANS! WE ONLY WENT ON _ONE DATE_. JUST ONE! IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL THAT SHE’D STILL WANT TO DATE AROUND!”]

Sans took a sip from his soda and leaned his chair back against the wall. “so it was a date, then?”

Gaster laughed and waved the thought aside. [“YES, WE TALKED ABOUT IT IN PERFECTLY FORTHRIGHT TERMS AND AGREED TO TREAT IT AS A DATE. I APPRECIATE THAT SHE’S SO OPEN AND PRECISE ABOUT IT—PERHAPS IT’S BECAUSE SHE MINORED IN LINGUISTICS.”]

“that would make sense,” Sans agreed.

He continued to listen while Gaster gave him a play-by-play of the date, and Sans read between the lines of a few of Cotton’s comments and realized there was a common theme.

Cotton was very young, and not looking to settle down anytime soon.

Gaster assured Sans he was well aware of this fact, and they were hoping to just be good friends, but Sans was grateful for once that his smile was permanent. It was that much easier to hide his concerns. Not that he was _terribly_ worried—he trusted that Gaster was wise enough not to stay in an unbalanced relationship for too long—but he _was_ worried that if this didn’t pan out, that Gaster would give up on his social life when it had just begun.

That weekend was Grillby and Magnella’s anniversary party, and Gaster arrived precisely half an hour early to help with the water-based drinks. Grillby let him into the kitchen and they chatted easily (i.e. Grillby teased Gaster relentlessly for going on two dates in less than a month after decades of minimal socializing) for a few minutes. Then the back door opened and Magnella slipped in with her husband’s black suit jacket.

“Grillby dear? Come along, it’s time to get ready,” she called She was a lovely magenta flame, and she wore a stunning green dress for the occasion. Grillby gave a low whistle of appreciation and took his wife into his arms.

“Magnella, you look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, tipping her chin back. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Nothing that I can remember, you scamp,” Magnella giggled, pressing her husband’s hand over her cheek.

Gaster coughed to remind them of his presence, and Magnella turned to him with a gasp.

“Gaster dear!” Magnella pressed the suit jacket into her husband’s chest and ran across the kitchen to throw her arms around Gaster’s neck for a brief, affectionate hug. “It’s been so long! Oh, look at you, already helping with the punch! What did we ever do to deserve you?”

Grillby huffed in amusement as he pulled on his jacket over his usual bartender uniform. He looked quite dapper with it on, and seeing him and Magnella so dressed up reminded Gaster of the couple’s wedding day.

[“ **You’ve done** **quite a lot, actually,** ”] Gaster smiled. Grillby and Magnella had each been there for Gaster in the days before he had invented the Font Regulator and had to communicate through badly written notes. Gaster fondly recalled bringing the two fire monsters together for their first meeting (a study group where, he recalled, not much studying had gotten done), and how thrilled he was when they got along so well. The quiet Grillby and outgoing Magnella made for a strong couple, despite their differences, and Gaster remained a close friend across the centuries. Gaster continued, [“ **In fact, I think you two children are the best thing that ever happened to me.** ”]

“Gaster you dear old flatterer, you’re not allowed to call us children today,” Magnella scolded. “You _are_ aware we are great-grandparents, aren’t you? And they’re _all_ coming today! I know you like to pretend to be an old codger, but there will be _ladies_ here today! Save that golden tongue of yours for _them_!”

Gaster rolled his eyelights at Magnella’s poorly concealed intent. She was his self-declared matchmaker from the day they met. [“ **All the more reason to be myself. Anything more or less is false advertisement.** ”]

Hissing laughter came from Grillby’s end of the kitchen, but Magnella ignored him. She continued to bicker goodheartedly with Gaster while he mixed up some water and flavor packets and Magnella fussed with the food in the oven. By the time they started carrying the food out to the bar, people were starting to show up and make themselves at home.

Most guests were Grillby and Magnella’s family. They’d had several children, who had each had several children, and so there was a wide age range of monsters who crowded around Magnella as soon as her flames left the kitchen. Three little flames in particular—one green, one yellow, and one blue, all wearing matching red dresses—moved as if they were one creature and latched onto their grandmother, who was more than happy to humor them. When Grillby came out carrying a platter of burgers, he was likewise detained by friends and family, so Gaster quickly became the sole food transporter in the building, at least until Frank’s family arrived. Then all three of their children swooped in to help their uncle, and after that point the work finished quickly.

It was truly quite a spread. Platters heaping full of burgers, hotdogs, French fries, salads, chips, punch, and a massive five-tiered cake with fondant-sculpted items of the couple’s favorite things on each layer. There was a separate section for fire elementals that had plates of coal, pinecones, and other delicacies specific to their race.

Frank’s family invited Gaster to sit with them at their table close to where Grillby and Magnella’s meet-and-greet table was set up. It was a little noisy, but that was what made it fun. Most people in the Underground knew each other, and while Gaster wasn’t the most social of monsters, Frank was, so several monsters stopped by Frank’s table after offering their congratulations to Grillby and Magnella.

After a few minutes, Sitka leaned over and very un-subtly elbowed Gaster in the ribs. “hey uncle gaster, why don’t you let my ma borrow your font regulator, if you’re not gonna use it?”

[“sitka, stop pestering your uncle,”] Sammy sighed.

For his part, Gaster was surprised he hadn’t thought of it sooner. A chance to let Sammy fantasize about buying a Font Regulator for herself _and_ an excuse to sit quietly in his own little corner? Sounded like heaven to Gaster, who quickly pulled his regulator off his jacket and slid it across the table. [“I AGREE WITH SITKA IN THIS CASE, ACTUALLY. I’D LIKE IT BACK AFTER THE PARTY, BUT PLEASE, SAMMY, ENJOY YOURSELF.”]

There was a definite hesitation, and the entire family held their breaths for a moment, but then Sammy smiled shyly and picked up the device. [“thank you, gaster. if you’d like it back sooner, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”]

[“OF COURSE,”] Gaster nodded, although he resolved at that moment not to need it the rest of the day. He gave Sammy some tips to help the machine get attuned to her font, and when it first repeated her words back in a common font, she started at the sound. Gaster thought he saw tears gathering in her empty sockets, but then one of their family friends came up, and they were absolutely delighted to speak to Sammy directly for the very first time.

Sans, who sat on the other side of Gaster, leaned over while his mother had her very first conversation with someone outside of her family. “thanks, doc. this really means a lot to her.”

“TO US, TOO,” Papyrus added quietly from Sans’s other side. “IT MUST BE QUITE A SACRIFICE ON YOUR PART TO GIVE IT UP TODAY OF ALL DAYS.”

[“NOT REALLY. I DON’T KNOW VERY MANY PEOPLE HERE,”] Gaster shrugged. But then someone walked by the table, someone wearing a dashing blue dress with silver embroidery around the neck and flowing sleeves, someone whose curly purple flames fell down half her back. Gaster forgot how to breathe for a few seconds.

He’d forgotten.

He’d straight up _forgotten_ about Lavanya.

All three children followed their uncle’s gaze and realized what had happened.

“oh boy,” Sans said, “wasn’t she, like, super excited to see you here, too?”

“HOW EMBARRASSING,” Papyrus concluded.

“should we abort the mission?” Sitka muttered.

Gaster shook his head. [“IT’S ALRIGHT,”] he said, pulling out his phone. [“I’LL JUST MESSAGE HER ON THE UNDERNET.”]

Sitka breathed a sigh of relief, and Papyrus said, “HOW RESOURCEFUL OF YOU, UNCLE GASTER! THIS IS ANOTHER REASON WHY I THINK I COULD BENEFIT FROM HAVING AN ACCOUNT MYSELF!” The young skeleton threw a meaningful glance at his father, who had just said goodbye to his latest friend.

“WHAT WAS THAT? OH, YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT THAT SILLY SOCIAL NETWORK SITE?” Frank laughed. “MAYBE IN A FEW YEARS, SON.”

“BUT WHY NOT NOW??” Papyrus asked. He proceeded to list several reasons—some legitimate and some rather ridiculous—as to the benefits of social media, but Gaster tuned out the rest of the conversation.

He focused instead on putting his “golden tongue” to use.

_You look quite lovely today._

It took a few minutes to receive a reply, which was understandable—from what he saw from his seat, Magnella was bouncing between the many fire monster families, holding infants and talking to toddlers as she went. Sammy and Frank had gotten up and started wandering around to room to visit old friends, leaving their children to continue to discuss the various pros and cons of social media.

Gaster listened to them halfheartedly, but when his phone pinged, he instantly gave it his complete attention.

 _Thank you!_ was Lavanya’s first reply, a second coming in shortly. _I was hoping to talk to you, but Magnella said that you’ve lent out your translator. That was very kind of you._

A faint blush turned Gaster’s cheekbones pink. Sitka shamelessly leaned over his shoulder to read the message, but Gaster fought her off and stood as if to get himself more food.

“alright, fine, but you’re showing me later!” Sitka called after him with a wide grin.

“OH YES, ME TOO!” Papyrus agreed, and Sans just crinkled his eyes in a real smile and winked.

[“OH HUSH, ALL OF YOU,”] Gaster snapped, and he then remembered that he could speak freely for once, since only his family would understand him. [“IF YOU’RE REALLY THAT DESPERATE, GO GET YOUR OWN SOCIAL LIFE!”]

The children burst into laughter, and Gaster smiled all the way to the food table. He put a few fries and a slice of cake on his plate, and then moseyed his way towards the booth where Lavanya had settled, alone for the moment. She brightened and dropped a few glittering sparks when she saw him approaching.

“Hello, Dr. Gaster! Would you like to sit with me?”

Grateful for her invitation, Gaster nodded and slid across from her. He pulled his phone out and set it on the table between them, typing out messages for her to read.

_It’s wonderful to see you again. I apologize for the communication difficulties—perhaps I should have brought a second Font Regulator as a backup._

Actually, now that he was thinking about it, Sammy would’ve been suspicious if he’d just happened to be carrying a spare. On the other hand, considering how awkward this made talking to Lavanya, he probably would have still taken the risk.

To Gaster’s surprise, Lavanya pulled out her own phone and began typing out messages as well. Neither of them sent the messages, just typed them out and turned the phones around for each other. It was unconventional, but an enjoyable change of pace.

 _That’s quite alright. From what I understand, this is a rare opportunity for Sammy, and she looks like she’s enjoying herself,_ Lavanya typed.

Gaster’s eyebrow ridges raised _. Do you know Sammy?_

 _I know Frank from when I locked myself out of my house once,_ Lavanya replied, _but I think everyone knows Frank, don’t they?_

Gaster laughed. _Yes, I suppose so._

Lavanya rubbed her hands together for a moment, then typed, _Can I ask you a personal question?_

Surprised, Gaster looked up from her phone and nodded.

Lavanya turned her phone back around so she could quickly type, _Were you a donor?_

Slowly, Gaster started to type, _I’m not sure what you mean,_ but Lavanya quickly added a clarifying bit.

_To Sammy’s medical bills._

Realization dawned on Gaster and he looked at Lavanya in a new light. The only way she could know about that would be if she was a donor herself. Gaster had been wondering who Grillby and Magnella had contacted to raise so much extra money, and this was the first time he’d found any of them.

He erased his previous statement and answered, _Yes. Were you?_ Just to make sure.

 _Yes I was,_ Lavanya confirmed. _Seeing her here tonight has made me very glad that I did._

Gaster nodded again, and they sat there for a moment, watching Sammy talk and laugh and smile bigger than Gaster had ever seen her smile. Then Gaster turned a curious, critical eye on Lavanya.

_How did you know to ask me?_

She was quick to reply, _Grillby told me the total sum before he donated, and you are the only other monster I could think of who could donate so much._

Gaster nodded and typed, _Fair enough._ Lavanya had a fair amount of deduction skills, though he did wonder about who else she knew that could afford the hefty donations. Grillby was certainly one. Gaster considered asking her who else she knew had donated, but then he decided against it. The fewer people who knew who all was involved, the better.

Just then, a young lady orange flame with a child on her hip came up to their table and started visiting with Lavanya. Gaster took the opportunity to eat the remaining food on his plate, and the new flame passed the child to Lavanya and settled in beside her in the booth. What few questions were directed at Gaster were quickly answered by Lavanya, and Gaster appreciated her tactful explanation of his communication issue without letting it sound like a disability.

A few more flames gathered around their table, talking about their children and news and whatever else. Gaster occasionally typed out a message that Lavanya graciously read out loud, but for the most part, he was content to listen.

Then the conversation turned towards puzzles.

“Did you know people are pushing to make Puzzle History a requirement in schools?” a yellow flame asked.

“That’s ridiculous,” Lavanya huffed.

Gaster’s soul stuttered.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no no!

Lavanya continued, “They’re a tradition, sure, but they were finally just starting to fade out, seems like. Let the past stay in the past! I don’t need to solve fourteen puzzles just to get to the grocery store every week!”

Although Gaster remained perfectly cool and collected externally, internally he was screaming, _STOP! STOP! I **NEED** THOSE! **FRANK** NEEDS THOSE!_

Luckily, some other flames shared his sentiment, at least partially. “I think they’re an important part of monster culture! We shouldn’t let our heritage die! Besides, what if another human really does come? Then I’ll bet you’ll be glad we have all those puzzles!”

“Maybe,” Lavanya acknowledged. “Even then, can’t we just—”

Gaster felt like he needed to do something—change the subject, crack a joke, _anything_ —but he couldn’t talk.

His eyes fell on the baby.

The child looked back at him.

No one else was paying them the slightest bit of attention.

Gaster had been around Grillby and Magnella often enough when their children were small to have learned a few things about fire elementals, and he knew that when they were this young, they were highly prone to catching things on fire when they got excited.

So Gaster did something he hadn’t done in the last hundred years.

He formed googly eyes.

He even rolled the pupils around for extra effect.

The child did not disappoint.

With a scream of delight, the baby pounded his tiny hands onto the table, shooting out sparks and flames in a small explosion.

The table, Gaster’s paper plate, Lavanya’s dress, and the child’s clothes all caught fire.

It didn’t last more than two seconds, of course, thanks to all the fire monsters surrounding them, but it created enough of a fuss to cause the child’s mother to reclaim him and the group to disperse.

Lavanya asked Gaster repeatedly if he was alright, and Gaster just smiled and assured her, _It’s alright, I’m perfectly fine,_ adding _I’m sorry your dress got damaged._

Lavanya just laughed and said, “Oh, don’t worry, this isn’t the first baby to scorch this dress. I have a brother who specializes in burn repair magic. He’s had to, with his seven children,” she laughed again.

Gaster breathed a silent sigh of relief. It really was a gorgeous dress, and he would’ve been ashamed if it had been ruined for his own silly plots.

They returned to exchanging messages for a few more minutes, but when some of Lavanya’s family started to come back to visit, Gaster excused himself to return to his own family. Sans, Papyrus, and Sitka were playing a card game with some other young monsters, and they quickly dealt Gaster in. They quickly came to regret that when Gaster easily won most every round.

The rest of the party passed quickly, and Sammy was sure to give back the Font Regulator before her family left.

[“thank you, gaster. thank you so, so much,”] she said, giving him a brief hug.

[“ANYTIME, SAMMY, REALLY,”] Gaster said.

By then, people were starting to clean up, so Gaster helped dump out the leftover punch and move tables and chairs back to their proper places. Both the first to arrive and the last to leave, Gaster endured even more of Magnella and Grillby’s teasing, but he didn’t mind it.

It had been a long day by the time Gaster made it home that night, but even with its surprises and moments of discomfort, Gaster decided it was one of the best days he’d had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavanya's dress was a bit of a last second decision, but I enjoyed the image [ enough to draw it](https://mathmusic8.tumblr.com/post/622775830165258241/have-lavanya-in-a-fancy-dress-and-three-of-grillby), haha. Also threw in a bonus pic of Grillby, Magnella, and three of the little flames running around.
> 
> (edit)  
> AAAHHHH!  
> writerwithasideofrandom drew the googly eyes!!  
> [ Check it out!!](https://writerwithasideofrandom.tumblr.com/post/622828566541991936/i-decided-to-do-some-fan-art-for-dr-gaster-learns)


	11. An Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it, writerwithasideofrandom drew Gaster’s googly eyes! [Check it out!! ](https://writerwithasideofrandom.tumblr.com/post/622828566541991936/i-decided-to-do-some-fan-art-for-dr-gaster-learns)

Gaster was drumming his boney fingers against his desk, filling the silence of his home office with a satisfying _rat-tat-tat-tat_ , _rat-tat-tat-tat_.

His puzzle fad was going incredibly well, all things considered.

After hearing Lavanya’s vehement opinion of puzzles, Gaster put out polls to get a feel for the general public. As he suspected, the majority came back in favor of puzzles, but the minority who disliked them tended to very _intensely_ dislike them. There would never be a complete consensus on any topic ever, and Gaster knew that, but he was facing about a 60/40 approval ratio, and that didn’t set well with him. His solution was to address each of the concerns raised through an emphasis on optional shortcuts, hints, and more traditionally-based puzzles such as switches and block pushing rather than the lasers that were so popular these days.

As the weeks went by, Gaster’s efforts were rewarded—the most recent polls now indicated a ratio closer to 80/20 in support of puzzles, and Asgore himself had started encouraging more puzzle construction.

Just as Gaster had hoped, Frank’s income was also on a sharp upward trend, and Sammy had told Gaster that they were looking to buy her a Font Regulator that weekend. She invited him to come over as soon as she made the purchase so he could celebrate with them and teach her the finer details of the device, and Gaster was absolutely thrilled.

His current problem actually revolved around that event, actually. Or, more specifically, who he was inviting to that event.

The past few weeks, Gaster had been more socially active than the last couple hundred years now that he was going out with Cotton every few days, and he felt that he was at a crossroads at this moment. It was only natural that he should invite a date to the family celebration, but he was nervous about formally inviting a woman to meet his closest living family. It just felt more . . . _official_ than he thought anyone wanted at the moment.

His natural instinct then, of course, was to not bring it up at all and just go alone. That option was thrown off the table when Sammy specifically mentioned that she’d love for him to bring a guest.

So here he was.

Cotton had made it pretty clear on their first date that she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, but that had been three weeks ago, and at some point, something had changed in her demeanor. She’d started invited Gaster out more and more, let it slip that she wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore, and started to get a little physically clingy with him—hanging onto his arm, grabbing his hand and pulling him along for a moment and then keeping hold of his hand the rest of the evening—Gaster wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He didn’t want to make any major decisions too soon, but now he felt backed up to the wall.

Would he invite Cotton to meet his family and thereby imply that he was willing to be more serious with their dates?

Or would he decline whatever date she came up with (she always came up with something for the weekends) and go to a family party without her, sending the signal that he still considered their relationship casual?

With a sigh, Gaster checked the clock and realized Cotton was finally home from work. He dialed her number before he lost the nerve and set his Font Regulator beside his phone on his desk. He pressed his clasped hands to his forehead while the call connected and willed himself to be calm. They were just going to talk about it in candid terms, the same way they’d discussed any issue that had arisen so far. _They were just going to talk._

“Hello Gaster!” Cotton’s bright, cheerful voice greeted.

[“ **Hello, Cotton,** ”] Gaster said. He was already smiling at her youthful energy. [“ **I was wondering if you had a few minutes? There is something I would like to discuss with you.** ”]

“Oh, sure! Here, let me just—aha! There we go! Had to put all my schoolkids’ flowers in the window before I forgot! Alright, I’m ready now! What is it that you would like to discuss with me?”

Just as Gaster constantly tapped his fingers, Cotton seemed to have a habit of repeating things back in the exact same tone as she heard them, and Gaster realized he’d sounded stiff. He forced his shoulders to drop and rolled his neck on his spine to loosen up.

When he spoke, he managed to have a much more relaxed tone than before. [“ **I’d like to have a very candid conversation about how we are each feeling towards each other in order to avoid any confusion.** ”]

“Oh!” Cotton said, sounding surprised. “I suppose we could do that. Was there a particular reason there might have been any confusion?”

Gaster nodded to himself at Cotton’s insight. [“ **Yes, actually. My nephew and his wife have invited me to a celebration this weekend, and I realized you may feel rushed if I invited you, or slighted if I didn’t.** ”]

“I see,” Cotton hummed. “Thank you for being so thoughtful! I am very glad we’re talking about this beforehand.”

There was an undertone that suggested that Cotton would have indeed felt conflicted had Gaster taken either route, and he was relieved that he had avoided such an awkward situation.

Cotton continued, “I know that I told you I’d like to keep our dates fun and relaxing, but I honestly do feel more comfortable about you than I have around anybody in a long time.”

Gaster’s googly eyes nearly popped out of his skull again—this was _not_ how he imagined this conversation going! His thoughts were scrambled, but he found himself saying, [“ **I also enjoy spending time with you.** ”]

“To be perfectly honest, I would enjoy spending _more_ time with you,” Cotton said.

Between his bouts of internal screaming, Gaster’s primary train of thought was _I’m not ready for this conversation I haven’t decided anything I can’t believe we’re having this conversation is this really happening whhhhhyyyyyyyyyy is this happening??_

When he realized she was waiting for him to say something, he tried for a positive neutral response. [“ **I’m not opposed to the idea.** ”]

_Wait, that’s not neutral!!_

Oblivious to Gaster’s panic, Cotton was nearly squealing as she responded, “That’s great! We can talk more in person, but for now, I’d really love to meet your family!”

Gaster gave her the details for the party, volunteered to pick her up from Snowdin a few minutes early, and after Cotton shared a few stories from the exuberant children in her class and they visited _as if it were a normal conversation_ , Cotton said her farewells and hung up.

For several minutes, Gaster simply stared at his Font Regulator, half convinced that it had spoken of its own accord for the last ten minutes.

When the rest of his pseudo-brain caught up to him, he remembered that his Font Regulator was an inanimate object, and he had really said all those things. Himself. Of his own free will.

He was going to be teased within an inch of his life by every single one of his friends and family members.

Yet somehow, Gaster wasn’t worried about what anyone was going to say. No, all he could think of was what one person would have said, if she were still here.

What would Julie have thought of Cotton?

That she was sweet, certainly, but also that she was a child beside Gaster’s many long centuries of life.

Gaster screwed his eyes shut and willed his thoughts away from Julie. She was gone now, and had been gone for a very long time. Gaster was moving forward with his life, and he knew that fact alone would have made Julie happy.

He wondered if, when the shock wore off, he would be happy for himself.

Only time would tell.


	12. A Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions ahoy.

Thankfully, Cotton and Gaster were not the only houseguests that evening. A few family friends also milled around, as well as some extended family members who Gaster hadn’t seen in decades, so at least the attention wasn’t completely on the newly formed couple. Cotton seemed extra quiet this evening, not unlike a child in a roomful of adults. She spoke to Sitka briefly, but then Sitka was swooped up into a game by some younger cousins. Cotton was tentatively invited, but she opted to stay close to Gaster. At least she wasn’t clinging to him like she usually was.

As the lady of the hour, Sammy flitted between groups, talking to some of her friends and family directly for the first time in her life, and she was absolutely glowing. Gaster couldn’t stop smiling every time he heard her translated voice—this was _exactly_ why he had invented the Font Regulator, but it had been a very long time since he had personally had the opportunity to witness someone’s world open up like this. It was a beautiful sight.

Eventually, the party started to die down. Gaster and Cotton had been asked to stay to have a proper visit, so they gladly helped with the cleanup. Once all the food was put away and the dishes were washed, Sammy made them all hot chocolate and gathered her family around the dining room table with the new couple.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, THERE, SON?” Frank asked Sans, who was nodding heavily into his mug.

Sans startled and looked up, his eyelights a little larger than usual. “huh? oh. yeah, just tired.”

[“ **Would you like to stay for the night again**?”] Sammy asked. She still had her Font Regulator on for Cotton’s benefit, though if she were anything like Gaster when he finished his first working prototype, she probably wouldn’t take it off at all for at least a few days.

“nah, i think i’ll head home though, if that’s alright,” Sans said, looking to his mother.

Sammy nodded and smiled, her eyesockets squinting up. [“ **Absolutely. Thank you for your help today.** ”]

“no problem, ma,” Sans said with his own squinty eyesockets. He chugged his hot cocoa and set his cup by the sink on his way out.

“don’t get lost,” Sitka snickered in some inside joke.

“YES, DO BE CAREFUL TELEPORTING HOME!” Frank agreed. “MAKE SURE YOU HAVE THE COORDINATES SOLID IN YOUR MIND BEFORE YOU START!”

“i know, dad,” Sans said, a hint of a bite in his words.

“GOODNIGHT, BROTHER!” Papyrus called, quickly diffusing the situation. “WE LOVE YOU!”

Sans’s eyes softened. “love ya too.” He waved goodbye and the world blinked for a moment as he teleported.

“Oh wow!” Cotton gasped. “I wasn’t expecting everything to go dark like that!”

The family laughed a bit, and Frank said, “Yes, it is a curious effect, isn’t it?”

Sammy’s smile slipped into a thin line. [“ **Do you think he’ll be alright, Frank? He told me he’s been practically falling asleep on his feet lately.** ”]

“HE’S A GROWN MONSTER, SAMMY. I’M SURE HE’LL BE FINE,” Frank said, patting his wife’s hands.

[“ **He’s been involved in a few heavy projects with me,** ”] Gaster said. [“ **Sometimes he stays at the lab even later than I do.** ”]

Papyrus volunteered to text Sans to make sure he make it home, and Sammy relaxed as soon as Sans replied in the affirmative.

With that resolved, Sammy looked to Cotton and smiled. [“ **So how did you two meet**?”]

“We were college students around the same time a couple hundred years ago,” Cotton explained, smiling over at Gaster. “We studied together a few times, but we lost touch after I graduated.”

[“ **Oh, did you graduate before him?** ”] Sammy asked, surprised.

Gaster shook his head. [“ **I already had several degrees, and I still wanted a few more.** ”]

“How many degrees do you even have?” Cotton laughed.

Gaster took a sip of his cocoa before he answered, [“ **Eight.** ”]

“Eight? Nuh-uh!” Cotton gave him a light shove, nearly making him spill his drink.

When Gaster just stared at her smugly, she continued. “I’m pretty sure it’s literally impossible to have that many degrees, Gaster. Try again.”

“um, have you _met_ uncle gaster?” Sitka scoffed.

[“ **Sitka,** ”] Sammy scolded gently, but Frank snickered.

Papyrus explained to Cotton, “UNCLE GASTER IS VERY OLD, SO HE IS MUCH BETTER AT SCHOLARLY PURSUITS THAN ACTUAL PURSUITS! IN FACT, I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER SEEN HIM RUN IN MY LIFE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Cotton spread her paws wide and turned back to Gaster. “Okay, fine! What are your degrees in?”

[“ **Well, I have a few engineering degrees—** ”]

Cotton shook a finger at him. “ _Each_ of them!”

After allowing his Font Regulator to interpret his cut off sentence, Gaster said, [“ **Alright, alright, fine.** ”] He kept count on his fingers as he listed each field he had studied. [“ **I have degrees in mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, architecture, chemistry, magical engineering, monster biology, human biology, and linguistics. That’s eight.** ”] Sure enough, he held up eight fingers, and Cotton laughed as he waggled them in her face.

[“ **Linguistics? Was that for the Font Regulator?** ”] Sammy asked him, distracting him from his game.

[“ **At first,** ”] Gaster nodded, composing himself. [“ **I took a few classes to learn more about how our magic makes language, and by the time I finished the Regulator, I realized I was only a couple classes away from the degree, so my fiancée suggested that we spend our last semester in school together, since she was also majoring in linguistics.** ”]

“you were _engaged_?” Sitka blurted.

Gaster blinked as he realized what he’d just said and looked around the table to see everyone’s at the stunned faces. Cotton’s he understood—he had hoped to explain the situation to her soon, in a more private setting—but had he really never told any of his family? [“ **Yes, I was.** ”]

“what happened??” Sitka asked. “did you have a falling out??”

[“ **Not exactly,** ”] Gaster said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, and the table hushed in response. Gaster noticed and tried to recover the mood. **[“I mean, we had a fight, yes, but we had just taken our final exams, so we were tired and stressed. Neither of us meant a word of it, and we both knew it, I think, but . . . .** ”]

Actually saying that she hadn’t meant it was a lot nicer than hearing it from someone else, Gaster decided. He still wasn’t sure if he entirely believed it, but stars above, he _wanted_ to.

He shook himself and continued, [“ **It wasn’t the first time we had fought. I knew she would go to Waterfall to think, so when I was ready to talk it over, I went looking for her.** ”]

Gaster noticed his fingers tapping the table manically and tried to still them by grasping his mug with both hands. His thumb stroked the smooth ceramic surface over and over again. [“ **That . . . was . . . the day we acquired the blue human soul.** ”]

Sammy gasped a little as she read between the lines and the rest of the family looked as grim as Gaster had ever seen them, while Cotton looked around with a sympathetic expression.

Sammy had tears brimming her empty eyesockets as she said, [“ **Oh, Gaster, I’m so sorry.** ”]

Gaster nodded. [“ **Thank you, Sammy. It was . . . a very long time ago, and . . .** ”] The images and the feelings of the incident were starting to drag themselves back into the forefront of his mind. Gaster took in a deep, shaky breath and powered through. [“ **I’ve tried to honor her memory and move on.** ”]

Cotton reached over and took Gaster’s hands in her paws, smiling warmly. “I’d say you’re doing a great job.”

Gaster‘s tight smile had returned, but he squeezed Cotton’s paws affectionately. [“ **Thank you, Cotton.** ”] Then he stood up and said, [“ **Please excuse me while I use the restroom.** ”]

He walked out of the room with a brisk step, and Cotton’s face fell as soon as he left the room. Turning to the family, she timidly asked, “Um, this is an awkward question, but I thought skeletons didn’t need to use the restroom . . . ?”

“OF COURSE NOT,” Frank said.

Sitka patted her arm piteously and explained, “when skeletons say they want to go to the bathroom, it just means they want to be alone for a while.”

Cotton’s eyes widened and her mouth fell into a silent “Oh”.

Sammy was quick to reassure her, [“ **You didn’t say anything wrong, dear.** ”]

Papyrus nodded with an encouraging smile. “UNCLE GASTER JUST NEEDS TO RUN AWAY UNTIL HE’S FINISHED FEELING ALL HIS FEELINGS, AND THEN HE’LL COME BACK.”

Cotton gaped at Papyrus for a moment, but then Sitka provided a much needed change in subject, and soon Cotton was sharing college advice with her and Papyrus. Gaster returned after a few minutes and threw in his own two cents. No one brought up his previous engagement, and he was grateful.

It was getting late at that point, and Cotton and Gaster gave Sammy their final congratulations and headed for home hand in paw. They were quiet as they walked through New Home towards the elevators, but in the elevator, Cotton spoke up.

“Can I ask about your old fiancée?”

Gaster nodded. [“ **I was going to tell you in private, Cotton, I promise. I’m sorry if you felt awkward this evening.** ”]

Cotton shook her head a little too quickly. “No, it’s fine. It was pretty obvious you weren’t _planning_ on talking about it or anything.”

The elevator opened, and they walked to the next one in silence. It was late enough that there weren’t many monsters roaming about, but there was still a comforting sense of privacy in elevators.

While riding down the length of the CORE, Gaster asked, [“ **What would you like to know?** ”]

Cotton hesitated a moment, but then she asked, “What did she look like?”

[“ **She was a water elemental. Blueish-teal in color, a little shorter than myself.** ”]

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a water elemental,” Cotton admitted.

Gaster nodded, unsurprised. [“ **They’re typically very shy. They usually keep to the rivers in Waterfall, but Julie . . . Julie was different.** ”]

They exited the elevator but continued talking as they entered Hot Land.

“Sounds like it,” Cotton nodded, and then her face scrunched in confusion. “You said she was in school with you? Did she still use, like, paper?”

Gaster’s brow-bones lowered. [“ **Of course.** ”]

“Wouldn’t she, like, get them all wet when she touched them?” Cotton asked.

Although inquiries about different species’ bodies was inevitable and generally tolerated in the Underground, Cotton’s blatant ignorance rankled Gaster’s soul.

[“ **No more than a fire elemental burning them up,** ”] Gaster huffed. [“ **Water elementals have a clear skin that holds their water together.** ”]

“Oh.”

[“ **We would joke around that if we had children, they’d practically be human, all bones and water,** ”] Gaster said with a tight, bitter smile. [“ **What fools we were.** ”]

Cotton pursed her lips, and Gaster got the sense that she was upset about something. Finally inside the last elevator for the night, Gaster asked, [“ **What’s wrong?** ”]

After a pause in which Cotton chewed on her lip, she blurted, “You really would have married her, if you could’ve?”

[“ **Of course I would have, Cotton, we were _engaged_ ,**”] Gaster said. [“ **I _loved_ her.**”]

Cotton’s face darkened. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Gaster couldn’t believe it. Was she seriously saying what he thought she was saying? Best to make sure. [“ **You don’t want to hear what?** ”]

Cotton made eye contact, and Gaster recognized a brazen courage welling up the same way it always did when they reached difficult conversations. “That there was someone before me. I know some people can deal with that just fine but I can’t, okay? I’m sorry she died, I’m sorry you two never got married, but when I hear you talk about it, I feel like I’ll never measure up to her, or at least to your _memory_ of her. I don’t want to hear anything about her while you’re with me.”

Gaster felt like he’d been sucker-punched straight in the soul. [“ **Cotton . . . .** ”] was all he could say before words failed him, and then he had to wait for his Font Regulator to catch up. He really needed to sort out that glitch one of these days.

The elevator doors opened, and Gaster and Cotton walked down to the Riverperson’s stop. The boat wasn’t there at the moment, and Gaster gathered courage to speak his mind.

He said, [“ **Cotton, I am an old monster. Did you really think that you were the first person to ever catch my eye?** ”]

Cotton’s eyes went wide. “That was so rude, Gaster!”

Gaster was confused at where on earth she found offense. [“ **Cotton, I’m trying to be open with my feelings, like we agreed.** ”]

“You’re saying you’ve looked at other people before me, like I’m not your first choice!” she cried.

[“ **Cotton, I was _engaged_ , what do you—**”]

She interrupted him before his Font Regulator even had a chance to start translating his sentence. “To be completely honest, I can’t _believe_ you didn’t tell me earlier! This is the kind of thing couples _talk about_ , Gaster!”

[“ **That’s what I’m trying to—** ”]

“Do you have anything else to tell me? You have any crazy obsessions I need to know about? LV? I’d love to hear all about it!!”

[“ **Would you just—** ”]

The Font Regulator emitted a loud BEEEEEP, overloaded by Gaster’s overlapping fragmented sentences.

It was too much like before. Julie had done the same exact thing, talking over Gaster when he was trying to explain himself until his Font Regulator crashed. Each time it happened, he was immediately sunk straight back into the dark, voiceless days of his childhood, and he hated it. Loathed that his own fiancée couldn’t understand him when he tried to call her back, tell her he loved her, tell her he was sorry, and then he found her but she was dead, nothing but a pile of dust between his fingers—

Furry paws touched Gaster’s cheekbone, grounding him back in the present. “Hey, it’s alright, you’re okay, Gaster, come back. I’m sorry for getting emotional like that.” Cotton’s voice was soft and concerned, and she cupped his face in both her paws now.

That was when Gaster realized he’d started crying at some point. He rubbed his eyes roughly. [“I’M SORRY—I JUST—UGH, YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND ME.”]

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying,” Cotton sighed.

Gaster grit his teeth and willed himself to accept his situation in silence rather than cause _another_ misunderstanding.

Cotton shifted closer to him and looped her arms around his neck with a sigh. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Gaster nodded. It felt good to have her close to him. He put his arms around her waist and leaned forward, rubbing their cheeks together, trying to tell her without words that he was still willing to try to make this work. She learned into him, and he hoped that she was saying the same thing back.

By the time Gaster’s Font Regulator was working properly again, they were much too focused on nuzzling to resume their discussion. Part of Gaster was grateful for that fact, and part of him knew that no amount of nuzzling now would make that discussion any easier later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it better to be brutally honest or to leave feelings unexpressed? Cotton's not sure, so she does both, and neither of them very well.
> 
> If you'd like to see Cotton, [here she is.](https://mathmusic8.tumblr.com/post/624023964028747776/time-for-cotton-to-meet-the-family-updating)


	13. An Introspection

Gaster and Cotton continued to date, and they also continued to argue about once a week. Gaster didn’t mind not talking about his previous relationships—he hardly did anyway—but it was starting to feel like every one of his little mannerisms set Cotton off, and he was starting to push back against her demands. Or at least he would try, but she’d start talking over him until his Font Regulator crashed, and then they’d nuzzle it out.

Gaster didn’t like it, but nuzzling was _nice_ , their dates were _fun_ , and Gaster was doing everything he could to make it work.

In the meantime, life moved on, and Gaster and Sans started spending long hours together at the lab. Sans’s company was intellectually stimulating in a way that Gaster craved, not to mention the boy understood him without his Font Regulator, so Gaster has been finding excuses to spend time with him, even if it was in the middle of the night. On one such night, Gaster was waiting for some data to compile when his slightly-buzzed-from-exhaustion brain started running his mouth before he could stop to think.

[“SANS, AM I A PLEASANT PERSON?”]

Sans looked away from his monitor with tired, squinty eyesockets and a wide grin. “woah, doc, are we having a deep-thoughts-at-2-am moment?”

When Gaster didn’t move, not even a twitch of his eyesocket, Sans dropped his joke flat.

“yeah doc, you know you’re one of my favorite people. i might be a bit biased though. not everyone gets to have someone as cool as dr. gaster as their uncle _and_ their boss. i consider myself pretty lucky.”

Still no response.

Sans tucked his feet onto his chair legs and pushed off from his desk, rolling neatly over to Gaster’s side.

“you obviously got somethin’ on your mind, doc. existential crisis? mental health flare? . . . lady troubles?”

Gaster finally sighed and nodded at that last option. [“I AM AN OLD MONSTER, SANS. I’VE BEEN ON MY OWN FOR SO LONG THAT I’VE DEVELOPED THESE . . . QUIRKS.”]

“everyone’s got quirks, doc.” Sans pointed out. He clasped his hands behind his skull and kicked back in his seat, propping up his untied sneakers onto Gaster’s desk. “name one monster in the entire underground that doesn’t have any quirks.”

Gaster scoffed, [“I COULD GIVE YOU A LIST.”]

“betcha a plate of fries thatcha can’t.”

Gaster appeared to think hard for a moment, even opened his mouth once or twice, but then he smiled wryly. [“I SUPPOSE I OWE YOU A PLATE OF FRIES.”]

“naw, i’ll buy the fries, you just gotta help me finish ‘em,” Sans said. “c’mon, i think grillby’s is still open.”

Sans teleported them to Grillby’s, where they got the fries to-go, and then they settled in the long abandoned breakroom. Gaster started talking more openly than he had in a long time, even to Cotton—goodness, even to _himself_. He admitted that he admired Cotton for her forwardness, but he disliked their current relationship, and he wondered if he was just too old to change all of his quirks to meet her needs.

Sans listened carefully for several minutes. It had obviously been a while since Gaster had been able to talk without interruption or even waiting for his Font Regulator to translate for him. Only once Gaster had talked himself hoarse did Sans venture to counsel him.

“it’s not about getting rid of all your quirks. heck, that’s what makes you who y’ _are_ , and i dunno if i even have the right to say this, since i don’t got the experience in this field that you do, but if you want my opinion . . . it’s more about finding someone whose quirks mesh with yours in a way that doesn’t drive the both of you crazy. ‘s not to say y’ can’t ever change, but if you’re changing your entire personality to make them happy? then ain’t nobody happy.”

[“SANS. DID YOU JUST SAY ‘AIN’T’?”]

“yup.”

Gaster groaned and slouched back in his seat. He consoled himself by dipping a few fries into Sans’s lake of ketchup and eating them slowly, savoring their salty flavor. [“WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME. WE WERE HAVING A MOMENT THERE, AND YOU JUST RUINED IT.”]

“see? this is why i’d never wanna date ya.”

Gaster snorted and coughed, spraying ketchup all over himself, but Sans just passed him a napkin and continued, “see, whoever i date’s gotta have a whacky sense of humor. it doesn’t have to be just like mine, but somethin’ close enough to where we can have a nice evening not be ruined by me dropping puns and wisecracks in the middle of a conversation. so at this point i’d tell you how chummy of a friend you are and tell five million puns until you’re sick of me and then we’d leave.”

[“SANS, WE’RE NOT ON A DATE.”]

“that’s not my point, doc. c’mon, work with me here. do you see what i’m getting at?”

Gaster sighed dramatically. [“I SUPPOSE SO. I KNOW COTTON’S A LITTLE YOUNG FOR ME, BUT DO YOU REALLY THINK WE CAN’T WORK IT OUT?”]

“well, let’s think of it this way—if you did break up, how would you feel the day after?” Sans asked. He tipped a ketchup bottle against his teeth as he waited for Gaster to sort through his feelings.

The smile that eventually broke out on Gaster’s face told him everything he needed to know. [“I’D BE _RELIEVED_ ,”] Gaster admitted.

“then there’s your answer,” Sans shrugged.

Gaster sat back against his chair and sighed, a nearly tangible weight lifting off his shoulders. [“I NEEDED THAT. THANK YOU, SANS.”]

“eh, i’m mostly repeating what smarter people have told me,” Sans said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Then he held up his ketchup bottle and pointed at Gaster. “now, if you want cheesy break up lines, then _there’s_ my field of expertise.”

Gaster quickly declined Sans’s offer, but Sans shared a few anyway, and they laughed themselves to tears until they finally called it a night an hour later.

The next morning, Gaster texted Cotton and asked her to meet him for lunch to talk about things. He even brought a notepad and pencil in case his regulator cut out on him again. He didn’t end up needing it—Cotton took it well and they left on decently good terms.

Sans was waiting for Gaster when he came back. They didn’t say much about it, just went back to work, but Gaster was faster to laugh, easier to smile, and before long, his mock arrogance began to return, and Sans knew that things were looking up.


	14. An Episode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise double-update!

Gaster was still reading a file of reports as walked into the break room, but when he didn’t hear his nephew’s usual greeting, he looked up.

His soul stopped cold in its tracks.

Sans was in front of the microwave, lying in a heap on the floor.

[“SANS!!”] Gaster shouted. He dropped his file and rushed to the boy, his hands fluttering over him uncertainly as he searched for injuries. A quick Check didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know:

_SANS 1 AT 1 DEF_

_Sans is unconscious._

Gaster finally rolled Sans onto his back and smacked his cheekbone, still calling his name. He streamed green magic to him as well, even though Sans’ HP ratio was full.

To his immense relief, Sans’s eye sockets scrunched up almost as soon as the green magic hit his system.

[“SANS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT? CAN YOU HEAR ME?”] Gaster asked.

Sans groaned and, with apparently great effort, lifted his head and cracked his eyesockets open, though they remained empty.

“wher’ ‘m i?” he slurred thickly.

[“YOU’RE IN THE BREAKROOM, SANS. ARE YOU INJURED?”]

Sans’s eyes tightened in confusion. “how’d i . . . mmph.” His eyesockets dropped closed and his head rolled loosely on his spine.

[“SANS!!”] Gaster shook the boy again, but Sans remained as limp as a dead fish. Gaster finally hoisted the smaller skeleton into his arms and rushed to the health clinic, just like he had that day he’d learned blue magic all those years ago.

Although things felt strange and hazy as Sans regained consciousness, he knew even before he opened his sockets that he was in the hospital. The beeping of monitors, stiffness of the mattress, and the sting in his soul from the needle feeding him healing magic were all too familiar to him. What confused him was that he had no idea why he was there. Usually he remembered which of his brittle bones he broke, or could at least feel a cast or bandages to remind him, but this time, there were no bandages, and the last thing he could remember was working at his desk at the lab, watching the clock eagerly for his midafternoon break.

All this registered before Sans forced his eyes open, and he saw first his father, whose frozen smile was softened by weary eyes, and then his mother asleep on an easy chair beside Sans’s bed. The lights were dim, and there was a profound quiet in the normally bustling hospital. It must be late.

“SANS?” Frank called, gathering his son’s attention. “ARE YOU AWAKE?”

“yup,” Sans said. He coughed as his magical throat protested against its occupation.

The noise instantly woke his mother, who sat bolt upright and eagerly scooted to the edge of her seat, taking Sans’s hand. [“good morning, sans,”] she smiled, though tears already started forming in her eyesockets.

Must be bad, then.

“morning ma, pops,” Sans greeted. At least his vocal magic seemed to have given up its anarchy now that he’d decided talking was a bigger priority. “uh, what time is it?”

“ABOUT 3AM,” Frank said. “YOU’VE BEEN UNCONSCIOUS FOR THE BETTER PART OF TWELVE HOURS, SON.”

That explained a few things, but there was still one looming question drowning out all the others. Sans asked, “what happened?”

[“gaster found you on the floor in the breakroom,”] Sammy said. She stroked Sans’s arm the way she had since he was a child, and though he had never said so out loud, he always found it soothing. [“he looked at the security cameras, and it looks like you collapsed right after teleporting there. he found you a few minutes later.”]

Sans’s brow bones lowered in confusion. “did i hit my head or something? i don’t remember teleporting anywhere.”

Frank shook his head. “NO, THERE DIDN’T SEEM TO BE ANY INJURIES,” Frank’s eyes crinkled as his smile became a little more genuine. “UNLESS YOU COUNT MAKING YOUR ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE FLOOR ON YOUR WAY DOWN.”

[“frank,”] Sammy chided, but there wasn’t any bite to it. Frank and Sans both laughed softly, and there was silence for a minute.

“i guess i remember feeling hungry? but i skipped lunch, so that makes sense,” Sans said, scratching his skull with his free hand. “hadn’t done that in a while.”

[“did you have breakfast?”] Sammy asked in that tone that mothers use when they brace themselves for a potentially unfavorable revelation.

Sans did his best not to bristle at his mother’s doubt. “yeah, i did. a great big one, too. biscuits and gravy with eggs on the side,” Sans said, and Sammy visibly relaxed. “i was so full, i didn’t feel hungry for lunch. that’s why i asked gaster if we could go on break later than usual. we were gonna go to grillby’s.”

“SKIPPING ONE MEAL SHOULDN’T HAVE TURNED OFF YOUR MAGIC LIKE THAT,” Frank mused.

Sammy nodded. [“and for twelve hours, too.”]

Sans touched the tubing that snaked under his shirt for his soul supplements. “did they do a scan?”

Since Checks could be relatively unpredictable, most doctors relied on Scans, which gave them a complete snapshot of all of a monster’s stats.

Frank said, “YUP. YOUR MAGIC LOOKS LIKE IT RAN A MARATHON, DRANK FIVE GALLONS OF WATER, AND THREW UP.” Sammy slapped her husband’s hand with another [“frank!”], but Frank just shrugged. “EH, IT’S TRUE, ISN’T IT?.”

[“he’s trying to say that your magic is all over the place,”] Sammy said. [“Sometimes it surges, and sometimes there’s barely enough to keep you alive. it’s stable now that you’re on the supplements, but you were in and out of it for at least an hour when you first arrived.”] Sammy’s voice turned soft. [“it was terrifying.”]

“huh,” Sans said. It was a lot to take in.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Hello, hello?” a deep voice called.

“COME IN,” Frank answered.

A bear monster in scrubs shuffled in with a clipboard and friendly smile. “I thought I heard someone makin’ a ruckus in here. Don’t you know some folks are still sleepin’ like normal people?”

The three skeletons laughed and Frank stood and shook the bear’s paw. “HOW ARE YOU, BERT? IT’S BEEN A WHILE, HASN’T IT?”

“Not long enough, Mr. Frank, not long enough,” Bert said with a chuckle. “How you holding, Sans? Seems like it’s always you on the nightshift. Your mama and sister have more sense about them and do their business during the day, hurhurhur.”

“can’t argue with that,” Sans shrugged. “’s always good to see you, though.”

“No it ain’t, because that means you done goofed again,” Bert chided as he checked on the machine monitoring Sans’s soul, and the bear’s expression dropped to something more serious. “Though this time is different, ain’t it?”

“seems that way,” Sans said.

Bert checked his clipboard. “Says here that you passed out after a teleport. Has this ever happened before?”

“n—” Sans started, but then he hesitated. “. . . uh, maybe, actually, come to think of it. ‘bout a week ago i woke up on the floor in my kitchen. thought i’d been sleepwalkin’ or somethin’. i’d scraped up my kneecaps somehow, so i took it easy the next couple of days and they healed up fine. i’ve never sleepwalked before, tho, so it makes more sense that it could’ve been this.”

“Hm.” Bert took notes of Sans’s story and asked a few more general questions.

After a few minutes of this, Sammy caught herself yawning, and she tried to refocus on Bert, but the kind old bear smiled at her and said, “Alright, I think this is enough to help the doctor get started in the morning. Why don’t you folks get some shut-eye for a few hours. I’ve got a puzzle book if you’re not feeling up to sleeping, Sans.”

“nah, you know me, bert. i love sleep so much, i’ve started sleeping standing up,” Sans winked. “’s really good to see you, though.”

“Same to you, son, same to you,” Bert nodded. He shuffled towards the door with his standard farewell: “Have a good rest of your night, folks, and I hope to never see you again.”

The family laughed, and then Frank joined Sammy on the easy chair while Sans laid back in his bed. Bert was a good monster. He’d helped set some of Sans’s messier broken bones when Sans was just a kid, and they’d been good friends ever since. As Sans did his best to get comfortable for the night, he sighed. You know things are bad when you can only hope that you’ll wake up as your falling asleep . . . .

Gaster had just sat down at his work desk for the morning when his cell phone rang. Sans’s name lit up in the caller ID, and Gaster whipped the device to his skull and yanked his Font Regulator off his coat. [“HELLO? SANS??”] Gaster asked, his soul thudding hard against his ribs.

 _“heya doc, howzigoing?”_ Sans’s weary voice asked.

[“I’M MUCH MORE WORRIED ABOUT YOUR HEALTH THAN MY OWN THIS MORNING,”] Gaster huffed, though his soul eased its pounding slightly. [“YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW GLAD I AM TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, SANS.”]

 _“yeah, well, hold that thought, ‘cause you won’t be hearing me around the lab for a while. i gotta go on leave.”_ Sans was trying very hard to be his usual unflappable self, but Gaster could plainly hear that he’d received some heavy news.

[“TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU NEED, SANS,”] Gaster said. [“CAN I ASK IF YOU’VE RECEIVED A DIAGNOSIS?”]

“yeah, i did,” Sans said. His voice took on a droning tone for a minute while he recited what the doctors had told him. “’s called ‘isdis’, for intramagical sporadic disruption syndrome. in other words, they know it happens, but they don’t really know why. they have some ideas, though. overexertion, emotional spikes, and lack of sleep are some triggers for other people, but it’s different for every monster they’ve seen, so they’re making sure my family babysits me while we play ‘let’s see what makes the sick kid pass out’ game. you should come over sometime. ‘m sure it’ll be fun to watch.”

The bitterness in the boy’s words was as hot and sharp as a laser. Gaster clutched his jacket over his soul. [“SANS, YOU KNOW I WOULD NEVER TREAT YOU LIKE—”]

“c’mon, doc, ‘m joking,” Sans insisted, but his weary tone spoiled his delivery. When Gaster didn’t respond for several seconds, Sans sighed, “sorry, i’m just really put out. gotta move back home and bum off my parents ‘til i learn what i gotta do to take care of myself. i guess i feel like a kid all over again, and i was really hoping those days were over, y’know?”

[“I UNDERSTAND SANS. THAT SOUNDS VERY FRUSTRATING,”] Gaster agreed.

Sans sighed heavier this time. “yeah. and things were finally looking up for my parents, you know? just, everything seems like it’s been extra smooth sailing for the past few months, and then _bam_ , real life comes back kicking and screaming. anyway. sorry, you probably got work to do.”

Gaster hummed in acknowledgement and tapped his fingers on his desk. [“MAY I VISIT YOU THIS AFTERNOON?”]

“sure. i’ll probably still be here in the hospital—i think they wanna do some more tests to make sure they get me on the right dose for my meds. i’ll text you if i get released before you come, though.”

[“THANK YOU SANS. I WILL SEE YOU SOON.”] Gaster hung up, set his phone on his desk, and scrubbed his face.

_Poor Sans._

No matter how hard Gaster tried to avoid that terrible thought, it always came back.

Sans didn’t want his pity. Sans wanted to be treated with dignity and respect. Gaster had provided him with that over the years, and the boy had grown to dearly love him for it. Surely Sans would be nervous about Gaster’s reaction to this new development, but Gaster resolved not to let it change anything. He pulled out a sheet of paper and began writing down different projects and assignments that might be feasible to give Sans so he could work from home. Gaster would give him as much normalcy as he possibly could. The boy deserved that much.

Gaster had texted Sans later in the day and asked if he’d like him to bring anything from his office, so Gaster was carting an extra cardboard box in addition to his usual messenger bag when he walked into Sans’s hospital room that evening. Papyrus was also there, describing some sort of action figure to Sans, who looked more cheerful than he had sounded on the phone. Gaster did not fail to notice the tubing that snaked under Sans’s shirt into his ribcage, however. If he still needed constant medication, Gaster doubted that Sans would be returning home anytime soon.

“HELLO UNCLE GASTER!” Papyrus called out. “WELCOME TO SANS’S ROOM, WHERE GREASY FOOD OF ALL KINDS COME TO DIE!”

[“THANK YOU, MY DEAR BOY,”] Gaster laughed. He set the box down by the door and walked up to Sans’s bed, searching his nephew’s face. [“HOW ARE YOU FEELING, SANS?”]

“never one to beat around the bush, eh, doc?” Sans said with a smirk in his voice. “i’ll live. probably.”

In other words, not well.

Papyrus scoffed, “OF COURSE YOU WILL, BROTHER! YOU HAVE THE GREAT BLESSING OF LIVING WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS AGAIN! I KNOW YOUR TIME AWAY FROM MY SUPERLATIVE PRESENCE COULD ONLY HAVE BEEN A DETRIMENT TO YOUR HAPPINESS. SO!! WORRY NO LONGER!! I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO RECTIFY THIS IMBALANCE! LAZY NIGHTS, MOVIE DAYS, SLUMBER GROUPS, STUDY PARTIES—WE WILL DO THEM ALL!”

Sans’s eyes crinkled as his frozen smiled turned real. “heh, yeah, that’s one thing i’m actually looking forward to about moving home. you’re the coolest, bro.”


	15. An Adjustment

A few weeks after Sans’s episode, Gaster found himself making the long trek to Grillby’s for lunch for two reasons: firstly, because he missed the greasy food that Sans often brought thanks to his teleports, and secondly, to gossip.

When Gaster walked in (much more quietly than he had a few months ago, he recalled with a smirk), he was surprised to see Lavanya sitting at the bar counter, talking to Grillby. She also looked surprised to see him when he approached.

“Hello, Dr. Gaster! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

[“ **Yes, I’m afraid it has,** ”] Gaster said with a sheepish smile. She gestured to the seat beside her, and he sat down. [“ **How have you been?** ”]

Lavanya’s purple fiery curls dropped a few happy sparkles down her back. “Good! Grillby over here finally convinced me to move to Snowdin, and I must admit, dealing with the cold is much better than the overcrowding!”

[“ **That’s good! I’m happy for you,** ”] Gaster said, and meant it. Lavanya looked better than she had before—her flames were brighter, nearly constantly dropping glittery sparks, and her eyes had fewer lines under them.

“How about you, Dr. Gaster?” Lavanya asked, her voice softening slightly. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

Gaster blinked in surprise. [“ **Oh. Yes. I’m doing well, but . . . .** ”] He looked to Grillby, who had been quietly watching them from the sidelines. [“ **Sans—my nephew,** ”] he added, for Lavanya’s benefit, [“ **he’s not doing so well.** ”]

Grillby’s flames immediately pitched darker. He set down the glass he’d been polishing and braced himself against the bar top. “I knew something was up when he stopped coming by . . . what happened?” he asked.

Gaster explained how he had found Sans collapsed in the breakroom, and his subsequent diagnosis. [“ **He’s back home now, but from what I understand, things are still touch and go,** ”] Gaster said.

“The poor boy,” Lavanya whispered.

“At least he’s home with his family,” Grillby said with a sigh. “They’re good people.”

Gaster nodded, but Lavanya was quick to say, “It can’t be easy, though, moving back home at that age. I remember wanting to show everyone that I was my own monster, and even just visiting home for too long was difficult.”

[“ **That’s right,** ”] Gaster confirmed. [“ **I’ve given him some assignments he can do from home, but if he’s not able to come back to work soon, I’m not sure how long they’ll last.** ”]

“That is a difficult call to make,” Lavanya hummed. “On the one hand, the work is probably good for him, but I doubt he’d enjoy receiving anything out of pity.”

They continued to visit, Gaster amazed at Lavanya’s insightfulness to the situation. Grillby brought Gaster his usual, and the three of them just talked. The two flame monsters were considerate of Gaster’s delayed Font Regulator—it never shorted out even once—and he felt rejuvenated as he walked back to work. When he received a message from Lavanya a few minutes after he’d left, he smiled, and they texted each other the rest of the day.

Sitka looked up from her schoolwork to peer suspiciously at her oldest brother, who was reading on the other end of the couch. That is, he was sitting there looking at a book in his hand, but he hadn’t moved to turn the page in at least ten minutes. Sitka finally put her homework aside and full-on stared at him, and he didn’t seem to notice.

“sans?” she prompted.

After a full two seconds, Sans blinked. He seemed to startle after another moment and looked up. “yeah?”

Sitka sighed. “when’s the last time you ate?”

“uh . . . .” Sans blinked a few more times. When he shifted uncomfortably, his book slipped out of his hand and hit the floor with a flutter of pages and soft smack, and Sans jumped at the noise. “what the—! oh. oh jeez.”

“you forgot you were reading again?” Sitka asked. She pushed herself off the couch and shuffled towards the kitchen. “come on, i think there’s some pizza leftover from yesterday.”

Sans sighed and, with great effort, hauled himself to his feet. If Sitka hadn’t already passed him, she would have seen him sway on his feet before he steadied himself against the arm of the couch. He walked around the couch, supporting himself along it’s back while he dragged himself forward a few steps, and then he stopped.

Sitka finally turned and saw Sans frozen in place, eyes completely shut and soft snores rattling out of his nasal cavity. He’d learned how to lock his knees a certain way about a week ago so he could literally sleep standing up, so now at least there was less of a risk of him breaking a bone in a fall, but if he were anywhere except home, these sudden sleepy spells would be a hazard.

Sitka pulled open the fridge and pulled out the pizza box that shoved onto “Sans’s shelf”, which was now constantly stacked with quick, cheap food. Sitka took two slices, put them together in a pizza sandwich, and brought it to Sans. Just holding it near his teeth was good enough for his magic to respond and absorb it.

After a few “bites”, Sans stopped snoring and pried his eyes open.

This part could be tricky.

“you’re okay, bro, it’s just me and some pizza. hold onto the couch if you get dizzy, alright?” Sitka said in a soft, soothing tone.

“wha . . . where . . . hmmng, ‘s cold, ‘s so gross,” Sans groaned, pushing the pizza away. He was tilting dangerously now that his knees weren’t locked up, but instead of grabbing the back of the couch like a sensible person, he cradled his skull in his hands, and Sitka bit back a spike of frustration. She knew from experience not to touch him just yet—otherwise his muddled mind would panic and he might shortcut to anywhere in the Underground, but if Sans didn’t grab onto something, he _would_ fall and probably break his brittle bones.

“sans, the couch is right there. either grab it, or i’ll—” Sitka said.

Sans pitched forward, and it was only Sitka’s quick reflexes that saved him from the hard wood floor—she turned his soul blue towards the ceiling, and with some clever, practiced changing of directions, she managed to lift him over the couch and laid him down on the cushions. She continued to hold his soul down while she force-fed him the rest of the pizza.

After whining like a toddler for a bit, Sans started wolfing it down as if he hadn’t eaten in days, and by the time he was finished, his eyelights looked much more lucid. He sighed and settled himself deeper into the cushions, muttering, “thanks, sis.”

“no prob, bob.” Sitka said. She went back to the pizza box to get him another slice.

Sans struggled to sit himself up and looked down at his chest, apparently just now realizing his soul was blue. “you wanna let go?” he asked.

“not until you can tell me what day it is, and when’s the last time you ate,” Sitka said.

“. . . fair enough.” Sans let himself fall back onto the couch and waited for his sister to bring him more food. He was always pretty confused after an episode, and that could make his teleportation magic pretty wonky. Keeping his soul blue had become their go-to safety measure, even though it made him panic sometimes if he was really out of it.

It wasn’t ideal, but until they figured out all of Sans’s triggers, this routine was the best they could do.

Sans, being a pragmatic soul, had already accepted his fate. “. . . can you at least heat it up this time?”

Sans was on a rare outing to the grocery store—he hardly left the house anymore, but it was allowed today because he had religiously eaten every hour the entire day before, and because Papyrus was with him. Sans did just fine for about half an hour, but then he felt a dizzy spell coming on. Papyrus was at his side in an instant, and Sans latched onto his arm, hoping it would pass in a moment.

It didn’t pass. Even as Sans’s vision started to swim, fury coursed through his bones. He was doing everything right—eating all the time, keeping an actual sleep schedule, even exercising more that he used to—and it just wasn’t helping. Sans buried his face into Papyrus’s shirt in a rare moment of weakness. “i hate this. stars, i _hate_ this papyrus, i’m trying _so hard_ an’ i jus’ . . . ‘s nnnot . . . goin’ ‘way,” Sans said, his voice thickening into a slur by the second. He wasn’t sure if Papyrus responded or not, he just knew his lanky arms wrapped around him and then he felt like he was floating.

Things did gradually get better. Sans learned that straining himself, going without food or sleep, or sitting too long were all triggers. The result for a while was a very strict schedule of snacks, naps, and low-impact exercise. Then he slipped in the shower and busted his knee, leaving him in a cast for a few weeks. During that time, his schedule was thrown out the window. Instead, he constantly snacked, slept when he felt like it, and the most exercise he got was limping from the couch to the kitchen for said snacks.

Miraculously, his condition seemed to improve by living like a slob. It about drove his parents crazy, and as a result, he was having more and more frustration built up at living at home. So when an opportunity came up for Papyrus to move out to Snowdin, Sans went with him. He even paid for the house himself from the money he had earned from working from home before those projects dried up.

While Papyrus helped him, he never treated him any differently than before, and Sans had more freedom to come and go than he’d had in a long time. Before long, he was managing to teleport again, and even though he no longer had the constitution to return to work at the labs, he would pop in and have lunch with Gaster as much as he could.

Gaster was another monster who had never looked at Sans as if he needed coddled. He would go out of his way to help Sans, sure, but he would go out of his way to help anyone he was close to. When Sans’s job from home stopped working out, Gaster had been level with him, and Sans appreciated that so, so much.

When Papyrus suggested the sentry job, and Sans’s entire family seemed to think Sans was above such menial work, Gaster simply said, [“IF YOU THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA, THEN DO IT.”] And Sans thought that it was a very good idea. That deep into the forest, he had the freedom to wander around when he needed to, and the sentry station had plenty of room for all the food Sans had to lug around with him. Sure it was boring, sure it wasn’t using his college education, but it was work, and it was something Sans could actually _do_.

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, gotta give credit where it's due, Zeragii's War Crimes is a pretty big influence for me writing about sick skeletons. Her stuff is amazing and family friendly, so please go show her some love!


	16. An Ending

It had been a solid year since Sans began his sentry job. People (usually friends or extended family who didn’t know him very well) still brought up his “useless” college education every once in a while, but the way Sans saw it, he’d made the most of it while he could, and he didn’t regret a minute of it. It took time, but people were starting to understand that.

He still had a flareup every now and again, but overall, Sans was happy. He had the world’s best brother, an entire town at the mercy of their shenanigans, a loving family back in the city, and on top of that, the coolest uncle in the Underground. Gaster frequently visited on his way to visit his girlfriend, and the four of them—Gaster, Lavanya, Sans, and Papyrus—would hang out at Grillby’s at least twice a week (Papyrus had tried a burger once, but then vowed “NEVER AGAIN!!” and only ordered milk). They had a ball, just enjoying the food and being whacky nerds together.

Gaster and Lavanya took things slow, and Sans could see that not only were they were happy together, they were good for each other, too. Lavanya was patient with Gaster, never interrupting him even if they got into a heated discussion, which was rare. Gaster respected her opinions, even when they disagreed, which was also rare (except when it came to puzzles—they never would agree on the legitimacy of puzzles). They helped each other be more social than either one was by themselves, and they were happier for it.

When Gaster confessed to Sans and Papyrus that he was getting ready to pop the question, the boys instantly got involved. They helped him plan a simple but classy dinner date at an upscale place in Waterfall overlooking the castle, and that afternoon they helped him find a new suit, though it was a little large on the old skeleton. Sans was an excellent tailor, but he couldn’t sit still long enough to do all the work, so Papyrus came with him and they traded off whenever Sans’s internal timer went off and he had to take a break.

Sans wandered around his uncle’s apartment to keep his magic moving, and he smirked at the mess he found in the spare bedroom that Gaster used as a study. As Sans poked through the old papers piled on the desk, he realized some of these were literally years old. He flipped through a particularly tall stack, and then he saw his mother’s name flash by. Sans backtracked until he found the page again. Pulling it out, he read in his uncle’s font:

[THE LIST OF INDETECTABLE SECRET SERVICE TRAPS (LISST) TO GET SAMMY A FONT REGULATOR]

Still unable to sit down without risking an episode, Sans paced the room, his eyesockets widening more and more as he read. Small notes in the margins like “Sitka knows” and “she told Papyrus” made Sans realize just how involved this project had been. He thought hard on that time over a year ago now that everything started to go right for his family. Things he’d nearly forgotten about suddenly all fit together like a puzzle—a puzzle that Gaster, Sitka, and Papyrus had created to be entirely inscrutable at the time. The more Sans read, the more blown away he was.

Without even thinking about what he was going to say, Sans walked back into Gaster’s room, list in hand.

Gaster was turned away from the door at the moment, but Papyrus saw Sans come in and asked, “OH ARE YOU READY TO TAKE BACK OVER, BROTHER?”

Sans didn’t reply, and Gaster turned to face him. Sans’s magical throat constricted and tears formed in his sockets. He couldn’t speak.

“BROTHER? ARE YOU FEELING ILL?” Papyrus gasped, rushing to his side.

Sans shook his head and held out the list.

Papyrus only had to glance at it to see what it was. “OH! I SEE YOU HAVE FOUND OUR LISST! IT’S ABOUT TIME!!”

Gaster startled at Papyrus’s statement, and he looked at Sans with something close to panic. [“PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF THE ANGEL ABOVE, DON’T TELL YOUR MOTHER.”]

There was a beat of silence, and then Sans started to laugh. He laughed, and he cried, and Gaster sighed in relief.

Sans felt woozy for a moment—crying seemed to do that to him these days—but Papyrus was already there, putting an arm around his shoulders and handing him one of his emergency Monster Candies. Sans phased it through his teeth, and as soon as his magic absorbed it, the world felt solid again and Sans looked up at Gaster.

“thank you,” he said, still fighting back tears. “it meant so much to her—so much to _all_ of us. just—thank you. thank you!”

Sans lost the fight, tears streaming down his boney cheeks, and soon both Papyrus and Gaster were supporting him between them as they got to the kitchen and set a bowl of instant potatoes in front of him. They talked about it for a while, sharing details back and forth of different plots and Sammy’s reaction to them, and Sans eventually felt the need for a nap.

Gaster led them all back to the bedroom, and Sans gave him a tight hug before he laid down. Gaster smiled at him as Papyrus resumed tailoring his suit, and Sans smiled wider than he ever had before. Then he slept.

It wasn’t until an hour had passed that Papyrus and Gaster realized they now had to factor in travel time to the ferry, since Sans was out of commission. They rushed to get the finishing details ready and, Papyrus carrying Sans in his arms, they ran nearly the entire way to the Riverperson’s stop.

“Tra la la. Where will we go today?”

“SNOWDIN, PLEASE,” Papyrus said, since Gaster seemed too out of breath.

“Then we’re off . . . .”

Papyrus and Gaster sat in the boat and Gaster gradually caught his breath while Papyrus resituated Sans to be more comfortable in his arms. They waited patiently for the Riverperson’s mid-ride comment, and soon enough, it came.

“There’s just no pleasing some rocks.”

Gaster and Papyrus grinned at each other, each instantly thinking of a particular incident with a certain grumpy rock monster who happened to love puzzles. Working with him had been a nightmare at the time, but effective nonetheless.

After the ferry landed, Papyrus hoisted Sans up on his hip, cradling the smaller skeleton’s skull against his shoulder, and smiled fondly at Gaster. “YOU’LL DO A GREAT JOB, UNCLE GASTER! I’M SURE SANS WOULD SAY THE SAME THING BECAUSE HE ALREADY HAS!!”

[“THANK YOU, MY DEAR BOY,”] Gaster said, pulling Papyrus into a brief side hug. [“RUN ALONG, NOW, AND PUT THAT LAZYBONES BROTHER OF YOURS TO BED!”]

With a final “GOOD LUCK!!!” Papyrus jogged briskly through the town towards his and his brother’s home, leaving Gaster to straighten his suitcoat one last time and turn on his Font Regulator. Then he walked up to Lavanya’s door. He gave it a solid _rap-rap-rap_ and waited with his hands clasped behind him.

The door opened, and Lavanya stepped out into the snow. She wore that same gorgeous blue dress with silver trim, though now she also had a black coat lined in faux fur.

“You know, it’s funny how happy it makes me to hear a knock at my door,” she said. Her fiery hair was already dropping sheets of happy glittering sparks, and Gaster took a moment to nuzzle her cheek.

[“ **I missed you** ,”] he said.

“We had lunch together yesterday,” Lavanya giggled. “But I missed you too.”

Gaster gave her his arm, and together they returned to the Riverperson’s stop. Gaster kept a firm arm around Lavanya’s shoulders as they stood in the exact center of the boat. It wasn’t the first time she had ridden it, but it was always a little off-putting to be around so much water.

Julie had been the opposite, of course. She loved the river, but Hotland was one giant source of misery for her. Gaster blinked the thought away and focused on the monster in his arms. It was inevitable that he would think of Julie tonight of all nights, he knew.

The Riverperson gave their mid-ride message, causing both Gaster and Lavanya to look up. “Not all rocks are sour. Some are sweet.”

Gaster and Lavanya smiled at each other.

She knew what would happen before the end of the night. They had been talking about it at length for months now, and she was ready to commit the rest of her long life to this man.

And Gaster?

It had taken a lot of talking, crying, and time, but Lavanya had stuck with him every step of the way as he unearthed and overcame the trauma he had been through. Now, Gaster was ready to make a new future he had thought impossible just a few short years ago, a future with a woman he loved, and who loved him in return.

It was a beautiful evening. Everything went smoothly, the only hitch coming when Gaster was so emotional his Font Regulator could barely make out his actual proposal, but Lavanya simply put the ring on and hugged him.

They were married soon afterwards, and no two monsters in the entire history of the Underground had ever been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking through to the end you guys! I hope this was a fun, satisfying read, because it was a fun, satisfying write! I may write more if the inspiration hits me, but aside from a few in-game period one-shots I got in the works, I make no promises haha.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment!


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